


The Mandalorian and Her Fool – a Story in Five Parts

by A_Voice_in_the_Desert



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2020-09-30 19:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20452715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Voice_in_the_Desert/pseuds/A_Voice_in_the_Desert
Summary: It’s possible to be blind and yet see.  Naïve and yet wise.  Foolhardy but courageous.  Sometimes blindness isn’t caused by ignorance but an overabundance of familiarity.  It takes many things for Sabine to see Ezra as more than just a kid.  These are but five of those stories.  Sabezra.  Set post Season 2.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So quick note: this has been sitting on my computer partially written for a long time. As you'll see, it is set in the Rebels universe post-Season 2. It does not contemplate how the show ended with Thrawn/Lothal, Kanan's death and Ezra's disappearance. I thought about going back and trying to account for all of that but I would've essentially had to start over. The good news is that I have 4 of the 5 chapters written already, so hopefully I'll have at least one edited and published each week going forward.
> 
> Disclaimer. Duh.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

****

The Cantina

__

1 year after Malachor

“Hera,” Sabine whined, not caring if she sounded juvenile. “I can handle this on my own. I don’t need a shadow.”

The Twi’lek captain shook her head, hands on her hips. “This will be good experience for Ezra. And no one goes on missions without backup, no matter how simple they seem. The same rule applies to Kanan and me.”

Sabine snorted, “we’re on Jakku. We’re so far from civilization that the Empire probably doesn’t even know it exists.”

“All the more reason to be careful,” Hera continued, unperturbed. “We know the Empire has put a price on our heads, and it’s possible to run into bounty hunters, even out here.” 

Sabine sighed, spying the Ghost’s resident astromech as he trundled by, “Can I just take Chopper instead?”

Chopper raspberried and spun his dome irritably. Hera threw her hands in the air, “No, you can’t take Chopper! He’s recalibrating the Phantom’s sensors for me. Sabine, what’s the problem with taking Ezra?”

Sabine ran her hands through her newly dyed green tips. She knew she was being unreasonable but she really didn’t want to deal with the kid right now. On another day, she would’ve gladly accepted Ezra’s company, but today she needed her independence, not the added responsibility of looking after an excitable seventeen year old. Besides, the mission was simple – go to Ergel’s Bar in Cratertown, sit in the third booth to the left of the counter, order a Reactor Core and wait for Hera’s contact to arrive. If Sabine had her way, she’d be in and out in under an hour and then they could be off this Force-forsaken planet.

“Look, Hera,” Sabine sighed, “I can do this myself. He’ll – ”

“Hey Sabine!” Ezra grinned, his nerf-hide vest hanging off one arm, “Ready to go?”

Sabine groaned and snatched her helmet off the dejarik table. She slammed it on and stalked down the hall. “Been waiting all morning!” she called over her shoulder and she slid down the ladder into the cargo hold.

She was halfway down the landing ramp when Ezra finally caught up. “Is something wrong?” he asked carefully.

“No.” Maybe short and sweet was the answer. Hopefully he’d take a hint (not that he’d ever been particularly good at that).

“Ummm…you seem upset.”

“I’m not.”

“I can practically hear you grinding your teeth inside that helmet.”

“Ezra! Look, I can handle this mission myself. I’ve done this sort of things hundreds of times before we even met. I don’t need your help. Why don’t you just go wander around in the market for an hour and I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

Ezra snorted, “Look around Sabine. Cratertown’s market has three vendors and they’re all under the same tarp. Two are selling something that smells like its been marinating in Rhydonium fuel for the last week and the other has parts that were out of date a century ago. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a cantina – it’ll be fun.”

Sabine scowled down at him, “you’re seventeen…why have you been in a cantina?”

Ezra shrugged. “When scavenging got tough on Lothal, sometimes I could sneak in. It’s easy to lift a few credits from the drunks and when they finally sober up, they’re either too embarrassed to come back and ask the bartender or figure they lost them the night before.”

Sabine cringed. Sometimes she forgot what Ezra did to survive before coming aboard the Ghost. Sure she and Ketsu had gotten into a few bars now and then, but their armor generally hid their youth and no one really liked to question Mandalorians too closely. If the bouncer started asking too many questions, her blasters or a few credits were usually enough to get him to look the other way.

“Fine, let’s go,” she said, some of the bite leaving her voice. “But we’re doing this my way. In and out. No nonsense and no making a scene.”

Ezra rolled his eyes and sketched a mock-salute, “Roger that Spectre Five.”

She shook her head. This day couldn’t be over soon enough.

…

Ergel’s Bar was not the most disgusting place Sabine had ever frequented, but it was close. The whole place stunk of sweaty, unwashed bodies and warm alcohol that even Sabine’s helmet struggled to filter out. The few tables that were still upright looked more like they’d been used as cover in what Sabine assumed was a twice-weekly, no-holds-barred shootout between the Devaronian snorting deathsticks in the corner and the one-armed Trandoshan hunched over the bar. If that wasn’t enough, there were three Twi’leks huddled in one of the booths that appeared to be shaking down a Nikto and a Chadra-Fan for whatever credits the two hadn’t spent on drinks.

Sabine glanced down at Ezra, “you still want to be here?”

He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed with Sabine’s questioning, and made his way over to the requisite booth to wait for Hera’s contact. In that moment, Sabine couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. For Ezra to not have been effected by a scene like this, he would’ve had to have seen much worse – or at least gotten accustomed to Lothal’s sleazy underworld during his time on the streets. Sure the Ghost sometimes stopped at less-than-savory destinations, but Kanan and Hera tried to avoid those missions, or at least managed them personally. They weren’t so much sheltering the rest of their crew, as taking a certain level of responsibility for the two teenagers. 

As Sabine casually wandered over to the bar, Ezra positioned himself facing the entryway, his body angled for a quick exit in case things took an unexpected turn for the worse. His lightsaber was on his inside hip, not visible to the rest of the cantina but within easy reach.

The Mandalorian raised a mental eyebrow. She sometimes forgot how much Ezra let his guard down when he was aboard the ship. Here in the cantina he was acting like an experienced veteran, someone who knew his way around a rough and tumble crowd. 

“You gonna order somethin’ or just stand there starin’?”

Sabine whirled, her eyes snapping to a gruff Crolute looking down at her over his flattened nose.

“Ummm…” she stuttered, “give me a Reactor Core.”

The bartender eyed her for a moment before reaching beneath the bar to grab a chipped, yellowed glass. He plunked it in front of her. “Eight credits.”

Sabine had just reached into her pocket when a voice came from beside her.

“Put it on my tab, Dekar. I got this one.”

Sabine rolled her eyes.

“Listen,” she said turning to the voice, “I appreciate the offer but I’m more than capable of buying my own…”

She trailed off suddenly. The speaker was not, as she’d been expecting, a deadbeat spacer who’d taken one too many runs through a dying star. Instead, she faced a handsome, olive-skinned Falleen grinning brightly at her over the edge of his drink.

He nodded again at Dekar. The bartender gave him a long look before continuing with Sabine’s order. 

“That’s a lot of drink for a girl like you.”

Sabine felt her lip curl in distaste, her initial surprise wearing off quickly. “I’m sure I can handle it,” she quipped. Truthfully, she’d never had a Reactor Core and wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol to begin with, but with the day she was having, she figured something strong couldn’t hurt. Hera never said they couldn’t drink a little while they waited.

If anything, the Falleen’s grin only widened. “Now, now, I didn’t mean to be hostile,” he placated, his voice suddenly soothing. “I was impressed. There aren’t a lot of women who enjoy a drink like that.”

“Well maybe I’ve just had a long day.” She deadpanned, pointedly ignoring the compliment.

“And yet it’s barely midday,” the Falleen, shook his head. “The lives we lead. So stressful.”

Sabine took advantage of the momentary pause to accept her finished drink from Dekar. Hopefully now she could head over to the booth with Ezra and get away from this creep. She straightened and nodded toward the Falleen, “thanks for the drink, I’m going to go sit with my friend.”

The Falleen followed her gaze until it rested on Ezra. For the briefest of moments, Sabine could’ve sworn she saw his eyes harden and something unpleasant flash across his face, but when she turned back, the look was gone. Instead, his pupils widened slightly and he let out a long breath.

“Of course,” he smiled, his hand reaching out and gently grabbing her elbow, “but first, please enjoy your drink with me.”

Sabine’s primary thought was to jerk her arm away and brush by him, but the longer she waited, the more she found herself not wanting to do anything at all. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Ezra faded into the background. Before she could stop herself, she found herself agreeing and letting the Falleen guide her back to his booth.

“Now,” He smiled, taking a long sip of his drink, “I think it’s time I properly introduced myself. I’m Xishut Krad, traveler, trader and purveyor of fine goods and assorted antiquities.” He finished with a flourish and small bob of his head.

Sabine nodded, suddenly at ease. For a brief second, she considered giving him her real name, but the malaise that had settled over her couldn’t stop her from falling into a role that Ketsu and she had used in their travels. “Esasi Ordo,” she introduced herself. “My partner, Dev and I are crew on a merchant vessel. We’re just stopping over to see if this place has anything of value before we pick up and move on.”

The Falleen gave her a sympathetic look, “Trust me sweetheart, if there were anything worthwhile in these junkyards, I would’ve found it long ago. But please,” he said, cutting off Sabine’s reply and lifting a glass toward Sabine yet-untouched drink, “enjoy yourself. There’s no need to stand on formality.”

Sabine acquiesced, a small smile on her face. She reached up and undid the hidden clasps on helmet, slowly lifting it off her head. Once it was clear, she set it on the counter and ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it, trying in vain to keep it from sticking to her forehead.

When she finally turned back to Xishut, she found him staring intently.

“I had no idea such beauty was hidden behind your mask. You truly do the galaxy a disservice by wearing it so often.” 

Sabine felt herself blush, wishing she was once again hidden behind its familiar visor. She knew this guy was just a flirt, but it wasn’t often she was called beautiful. Her art? That was beautiful, enchanting, or breathtaking. But her? The adjectives usually included some combination of intimidating, sarcastic, and stubborn. Occasionally, some drunkard would leer at her ass or make a remark about her legs, but no one ever seriously commented on her appearance (and no, she didn’t count Ezra’s juvenile flirting). She found herself enjoying Xishut’s praise.

“You’re too kind,” Sabine said, hiding behind a sip from her glass. “But please, tell me more about what you do. I’d love to hear more about your…adventures.”

Xishut smiled widely and leaned forward, a hand reaching out to gently brush Sabine’s fingers. He was just about to launch into his tale when a mess of dark blue-black hair interposed itself between the two of them.

“Hello?” Ezra waved his hand in front of her face, clearly agitated. “Anyone home? Forget what we came here to do? Or are you just going to sit here and make eyes at this loser?”

Sabine batted away his hand, the sudden flush of annoyance providing a brief moment of clarity. She had gotten uncharacteristically carried away and allowed herself to be distracted from the mission. As interesting as Xishut was, Hera’s informant took precedence.

“Dev,” she emphasized the name, hoping Ezra would catch on, “is probably right.” She smiled apologetically at the Falleen, “I do need to get going. I’d love to hear your tales another time. Thanks again for the drink.”

When she looked up, she was startled to see another cold glare easing its way off Xishut’s face. If looks could kill, Sabine had little doubt that Ezra would have been another stain on the floor. But when the Falleen noticed Sabine’s attention, he quickly schooled his features into something more neutral.

“Nonsense,” he said dismissively, “I’m sure your partner is more than capable of handling things himself. He doesn’t need you to babysit.”

“Hey!” Ezra exclaimed, “Listen here you…”

But Ezra’s protests suddenly seemed to fade into the background. The extraneous noise from the bar quieted and Sabine felt her gaze being drawn back to Xishut. The green-skinned alien was pointedly ignoring Ezra, the bemused look on his face clearly angering the younger boy. His pupils were almost fully dilated as he smiled once again at Sabine.

“Tell your partner he should leave,” he said.

“What!? No! You can’t order her around! You’re not going to listen to this guy, are you?” Ezra exclaimed, incensed. Sabine shook her head, trying to clear it. Why did his voice sound so distant?

She looked back from Ezra to Xishut, her brain barely registering the younger boy. He wasn’t important. He needed to leave now. All Sabine wanted to do was spend uninterrupted time with the man in front of her. In fact, she should probably send Ezra away herself.

“Stop annoying us,” she blurted. “Go wait back at the ship. I’ll join you when I’m finished.”

If anything, Xishut’s smile grew wider. At the periphery, Sabine could see Ezra clamp down on his hurt expression, his eyes deadening and jaw tightening. He looked away.

“Fine, but I’m not leaving,” he bit out. “I’m going back to wait at the booth.”

The booth…why did that sound familiar? Sabine knew was missing something significant.

“That’s fine,” Xishut practically purred. “Be gone, young one.” He turned his back like Ezra had never existed in the first place. The frustrated boy made a rude gesture at Falleen before shoving his way through the crowd to the other side of the bar.

Sabine didn’t know what to feel – the small part of her brain that was telling her that something was wrong was being overpowered by an overwhelming sense of relief and contentment. She didn’t need Ezra. Everything she needed was right in front of her.

In fact, she felt an overpowering urge to stare at the pale green of Xishut’s chest and the tattoo that peaked out from under his right shoulder. Had he unbuttoned his shirt when she wasn’t looking? Would he mind if she reached over and loosened another button or two? Or maybe trailed her fingers over his impressive biceps?

Sabine shook her head and felt her face heat up. Where were these thoughts coming from? She was always under control…why was this happening now?

Xishut leaned a bit closer and reached out, gently running a hand through her blue-green fringe. 

“Esasi,” he said, his voice like honey in her ears, “you are truly spectacular. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before.”

Sabine reached out and ran her fingers over Xishut’s forearm, admiring the way his muscles flexed under her fingertips. “I’ve never met anyone like you either,” she murmured.

The Falleen drew closer, his knees bumping gently against hers.

“Most people can’t see beyond the armor or the helmet,” she looked down, twirling a lock of hair. “I…I think I intimidate them.”

When she glanced up, she found Xishut’s face inches from her own. His eyes were dark and wide and she could just make out a whiff of his pungent cologne.

“My little Mandalorian beauty,” he smiled, running his fingers lightly over Sabine’s cheek. “Forget about them. You don’t need anyone other than me now. Once you’re mine, you won’t have to worry about them ever again.”

Suddenly he was kissing her. His lips moving against hers; his intoxicating scent overwhelming her senses. Sabine couldn’t think…couldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure she wanted this, but her brain was telling her it was right. When they finally broke apart, she found herself struggling to catch her breath.

Xishut grabbed her hand, “let me take you to my ship. We’ll have more privacy there.”

Sabine allowed herself to be pulled from her seat and led through the crowd. The pair had made it halfway to the exit when Sabine bumped into Xishut’s shoulder. Confused, she peered around the Falleen to see Ezra firmly planted in his path, lightsaber in hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was hard; the question directed at her, not her companion.

Xishut stepped in front of Sabine, blocking her view of Ezra. 

“The lady and I were just leaving,” he said. “Please step aside young man.”

“Not until I talk to my friend,” Ezra snapped. “Alone.”

Xishut looked down, registering for the first time that this was Sabine’s partner and not just a random stranger who happened across their path.

“Look kid,” he growled, “your friend is old enough to make her own decisions. She doesn’t need you to tell her what to do. Now move aside.”

He tried to brush past, but Ezra wasn’t having it. With a loud snap hiss his lightsaber flared to life.

“She’s not going anywhere until I talk to her,” he snarled, ignoring the incredulous gasps from the onlookers.

Xishut’s hand dropped to his blaster and he eyed Ezra warily. After a moment, he stepped partially to the side, allowing Sabine to peak around his shoulder. “Tell him you’re leaving with me,” he ordered.

As soon as Xishut spoke, Sabine felt the words rise to her lips unbidden, but in the instant before they left, she stopped. Something wasn’t right. Why did she want to leave with Xishut? Why was she even in this bar in the first place? She couldn’t remember. But when she hesitated, the Falleen turned and placed both hands on her shoulders.

“Esasi,” he said, his eyes wide and dark. Her vision tunneled and soon all she could see was the man in front of her. “Tell Dev you’re leaving.”

A surety fell over her and this time the words came. She barely glimpsed the incredulous look on Ezra’s face and Xishut’s triumphant grin as he brushed past the thrumming lightsaber, leading her along by the hand. She allowed herself to be pulled along until a sharp tug wrenched her from Xishut’s grasp.

She was spun around until Ezra’s face was inches from her own. His normally playful blue eyes had been replaced by a steely glare. His jaw was set and shoulders tense. Before Sabine could even flinch, he reached out and gently placed his fingers to her temple.

Immediately her vision flashed white and she went rigid. Flashes of color and scattered images bombarded her brain at lightspeed. First, a green skinned Twi’lek. Next, a burly, purple furred alien. Then an astromech followed by a straight-backed figure with a tan cloth covering his eyes.

Sabine! A voice echoed through the back of her mind.

She struggled against the onslaught of imagery, searching desperately for the voice that called at the edge of her consciousness – a voice that promised light in a world of darkness. She raced along, grasping at whatever threads she could find, weaving through her mind in an attempt to push against the darkness that seemed to overwhelm it, to break through to the outside. Finally she came to its end, the darkness’ lair deep inside her brain. Instead of pausing, retracing her steps or evaluating the situation, Sabine threw herself against it like water upon rocks. She was reckless, frantic and foolhardy. For a second, in the stillness, she thought she might’ve succeeded. But then that moment’s peace was shattered by a blinding pain – a scorching, incandescent dagger originating right between her eyes. It pierced every aspect of her mind and she, in the far reaches of her consciousness, heard herself cry out.

Sabine, fight it! 

Louder now, she felt the voice trying to force its way through her jumbled thoughts. But before she could reach it. Before she could beg for mercy, for the pain to stop, the images started again. This time, they were from her childhood. She saw her mother fighting alongside Death Watch. A blaster in hand, she struck down friends and enemies alike in the perverted pursuit of a unified Mandalore. Then she was ten, watching the glory of the Empire’s troops as they marched past in full parade regalia, deciding then and there that she would join them, bringing order, peace and stability to the galaxy.

At thirteen she enlisted. Her back straight and chest out, she proudly wore the cadet’s greys. Her new friend, Ketsu, was at her side. Together, they were going to change the universe.

Two years later it all came crashing down. Their mission – a “peace keeping” initiative – was really the brutal suppression of an indigenous people group. Her commander ordered her to put a blaster bolt through the head of a prostrate worker. Her hand trembled and weapon waivered, but in the end, she pulled the trigger. When the mission was finally over, Sabine found herself shivering, huddled against the cold tile floor of her barrack’s shower, her stomach emptied at her feet, the man’s pleading face seared in her mind’s eye.

Two months later she and Ketsu fled, stowing away on a freighter bound for the Outer Rim. The cadet’s uniform she’d coveted not long before hastily exchanged for threadbare rags. She’d only just managed to throw her armor into a rucksack before scampering out the door, the rest of her personal effects abandoned in her flight.

For a brief moment after they’d left, Sabine had a purpose – a channel for the hurt, anger and rage she’d kept stored within. Bounty hunting suited her. She was no longer Sabine Wren, daughter of Death Watch and an Imperial deserter. She was Mandalorian. She was feared.

Then Ketsu took everything a step too far. A careless moment cost the lives of a woman and her three children. Ketsu tried to justify it as collateral damage and acceptable losses, but Sabine knew that wasn’t true. She could hear it in her voice. Anger had taken over; she could no longer trust her friend.

So she left. Alone again. Purposeless until she ran into a Twi’lek and her lightsaber-wielding friend. They brought her in, clothed her and fed her. They didn’t try to change her, but provided new direction. They were a family.

Suddenly, names started flashing through her mind.

Hera.

Kanan.

Zeb.

Chopper.

Ezra.

SABINE!!!

Her mind whiplashed to the present like a ship wrenched prematurely from hyperspace. She recognized that voice. It teased her, made her smile, and above all else, promised an unfailing loyalty and acceptance. Her eyes slowly refocused as she wiped them free of the tears. As her mind returned, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Ezra.

He slowly brought his hand down from her temple, carefully avoiding any unnecessary contact. His eyes were pained, “are you back? You weren’t for a while there.”

Sabine frowned, fighting the splitting headache that was building on the horizon. She scanned the crowd, looking for anything familiar, for someone or something to jog her memory. When her eyes finally landed on a Falleen slowly edging away, it all came flooding back.

“Pheromones!” She exclaimed, “you son of a gundark!” 

Before anyone could react, Sabine reached out and yanked Xishut to her, her blaster already clear of its holster and firmly lodged in his gut.

The Falleen’s eyes flicked back and forth between Ezra and the enraged Mandalorian teen.

“Now, I’m sure-”

Before Xishut even finished his sentence, a loud blast echoed through the cantina. The Falleen slumped to the floor. Conversation ceased and a few patrons scurried out the door. The remainder eyed her, hands and appendages on their own weapons.

“He’s stunned,” Sabine said loudly, deliberately holstering her blaster and reaching into her utility belt. She took out two large denomination credit chits and set them on the bar in front of Dekar. “For the mess and,” she continued loudly, making sure she had everyone’s attention, “a round of drinks. On me.”

Dekar grunted, the chits vanishing into his meaty palms. After a poignant pause, the tension eased from the room and conversation slowly started again. Soon a few of the patrons began to filter up to the bar to claim their drinks.

“C’mon,” Sabine said, not looking at Ezra, “let’s go before I do anything else I regret.”

She jammed her helmet over her head and started toward the exit, her gaze forward and chin high. She had had enough of today – Hera could meet her own damned informant. Ezra followed silently, stopping only to give the stunned Falleen a hard kick to the ribs as stepped over his body.

….

Sabine walked as fast as she could without breaking into a jog. The sooner she got back to the Ghost and into her room, the better. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, and she certainly didn’t want to discuss what just happened with Ezra, who kept glancing over at her every few minutes, the questions clearly on his lips.

When they finally reached landing pad and turned the corner to see the Ghost, Ezra spoke up.

“Sabine, I think we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Now shut up and keep walking. We’re almost there.”

“Sabine,” he put a steadying hand on her shoulder, “he was in your head. I had to use the Force to get him out. You’re not okay…let me help.”

Maybe she was tired of talking. Maybe she was just ashamed that she’d let Xishut’s pheromones manipulate her. Whatever it was, Sabine snapped. She grabbed Ezra by the front of his vest and slammed him roughly against the side of the Ghost.

“Listen Ezra,” she growled, ripping her helmet from her head and drawing on every iota of Mandalorian intimidation she could muster, “never, ever use the Force to get inside my head again. You understand me!?”

The stunned look on his face – part surprise, part genuine pain – quickly dissolved into confused anger. “What do you mean!?” He exclaimed. “I saved you from that kriffing deadbeat back at the bar!”

Sabine jabbed a finger in his face, “No! I’m not a weak-minded fool for you or anyone else to manipulate! My thoughts are my own, alright!? Don’t ever get in my head again!”

“But…but…I didn’t…”

Sabine didn’t bother to stop and listen; she whirled away and stormed up the Ghost’s ramp, brushing by Hera and nearly tripping over Chopper. She ignored Hera’s startled exclamation – intent on reaching the safety of her room.

Once she got inside, she palmed the door shut and locked it. She flung her helmet angrily into a corner, where it clattered against a mess of half-finished paintings and spray bottles. Only then, in the silence, did she allow her façade to break. She slid down to the floor, her back against the cool metal of the door. Hot tears began to run down her cheeks.

Her body trembled uncontrollably. She knew she was ok; she was safe. Xishut would never see her again, and yet she wasn’t sure if she’d ever stop seeing him. She was ashamed she hadn’t been strong enough to resist him. It’d taken Ezra’s pointed observation and quick thinking to keep her from saying and doing things she’d never be able to take back. She kept reliving what had been like to not be in control of her thoughts and emotions – what it was like for her body to not fully be her own. 

His hand brushing her fringe, sliding gently down her cheek. 

All of those things he said…there’d been a part of her that had appreciated them – that had wanted there to be someone who thought she was beautiful. Now those words were tainted, repulsive. It would’ve been better had they never been said. She wasn’t sure she’d believe anyone who said them ever again.

For now, she just wanted the day to be over – to fall asleep and forget it ever happened. Her head hurt as her mind continued to torture her with images from the day. Her chest was heavy with despair. She stumbled over to her bed and fell facedown on the mattress, not bothering to remove her armor, begging for sleep.

As she drifted off, she could’ve sworn she heard a quiet knock at her door. Not wanting to be bothered, she rolled over just to be safe. It didn’t repeat and soon, Sabine fell asleep.


	2. The Gala

**The Gala**

_1.3 years after Malachor_

Sabine knew from the outset that she was going to hate this mission. First off, it was an information grab – no shooting bucketheads or blowing up supply depots allowed. Second, it involved schmoozing Imperial dignitaries. While Hera had assured her that as Kanan’s bodyguard she would hardly need to speak at all, sweet talk had never been the Mandalorian’s strong suit. And to make things worse, she wasn’t even allowed to bring her blasters. Apparently they were considered _inappropriate_ at the Duke and Duchess of Hosnian Prime’s gala. As far as Sabine was concerned, any event that didn’t allow blasters wasn’t worth her time.

The last straw, however, was the event’s black tie requirement, which was why Sabine found herself digging around in the back of her closet for something – anything – to wear. She’d already dismissed the notion of a dress (not that she had many of those in the first place). If she was supposed to be Kanan’s bodyguard, she needed to be able to move around freely and a pair of tight black pants seemed like the only option. They even paired nicely with her dark, rubber-soled combat boots (please – like she would even consider wearing heels). The only remaining problem was the blouse. She hadn’t had need for anything remotely dressy in a long time and the only semi-formal attire she could find was an old, slightly wrinkled orange top that buttoned up the front. It certainly wasn’t the height of style but at least it matched her hair.

She made her way over to the mirror and spun around a couple times, trying to examine the outfit from every angle. She thought, all things considered, that she didn’t look too bad. The pants showed off her long legs and the top, while modest, did accentuate her athletic figure. Maybe she wouldn’t be as underdressed as she’d anticipated. Snatching a black jacket off her bed, she made her way out to the lounge where Kanan, Zeb and Chopper were waiting.

Kanan, she had to admit, did clean up nicely. His cover, Jax Grovan, was a wealthy Corellian shipping magnate looking to expand his business into the Outer Rim. Playing the part, Kanan had managed to find a deep navy suit coat and slacks that had been cut along vaguely military lines. He wore an off white shirt with an open collar and pulled his hair back with a golden band. All in all, he looked the perfect mix of pretentious and successful.

The aforementioned Jedi was absentmindedly playing with his cufflinks when she walked in. He looked up and nodded, “Ezra and Hera should be here shortly. We’ll take the _Phantom_ over and leave these two with the _Ghost _as back-up.”

Zeb crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, “I don’t see why I can’t come with. Chopper can manage the ship just fine and I know a swanky party like this is going to have fantastic grub.”

“Oh quit your whining, you overgrown monkey.” Ezra’s voice carried its way down the hall, “These clothes itch and make me feel ridiculous.”

When Ezra finally did reach the lounge, Sabine was taken aback. While the clothes may have really itched if Ezra’s constant tugging at his collar was anything to go by, he certainly didn’t look ridiculous. Kanan (or Hera, most likely) had worked some magic on a nice pair of black dress slacks that Kanan had outgrown and a pale blue shirt that (if Sabine was being honest) worked well with his dark hair and blue eyes. With a black jacket and the two scars on his left cheek, he cut an almost roguish figure – one that certainly made Sabine mentally sit up and take notice. _Give him another year or two and..._ She shook her head. Now was not the time to pursue that train of thought any further.

Deciding to make the most of the opportunity, she walked up to Ezra and playfully grabbed his collar. “Don’t you look adorable!”

Ezra groaned and slapped her hands away. “Shut it, Sabine. I never had to wear anything like this on Lothal. Kanan,” he turned to the Jedi, “why do I have to be your nephew? Can’t I stay on the ship with Zeb and Chopper?”

“Because, Ezra, we need you to get past security while Kanan and I distract the Duke and Duchess. Do we need to go over the plan again?”

At Hera’s voice, Kanan glanced up, his eyes widening. When Sabine turned as well, she couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.

While Hera was going as Kanan’s assistant, few would have any doubt as to the true nature of their relationship. Even though Imperials frowned upon human-alien relations, they knew they existed and generally turned a blind eye so long as they weren’t “official” – hence the growing number of “assistants” and “attachés” that frequented wealthy businessmen and government officials’ employment rosters. And Hera, to her credit, played the part flawlessly.

The dress she had chosen was floor length and a deep midnight blue that matched Kanan’s suit and beautifully accented her lithe form. It was high-necked, zipped up the back and sleeveless, practically flowing with her as she moved. And while it didn’t show any cleavage, two cutouts along its side showed off Hera’s taut midsection. A pair of modest heels made her legs look longer than usual, and a light golden weave around her lekku completed the look.

“Careful love, you’re drooling.” She playfully tapped Kanan’s chin, before turning to fuss with Ezra’s jacket, brushing some imaginary dust from his shoulder. “You look handsome too, but remember,” she flicked his nose, “eyes front.”

Ezra blushed and looked down. Apparently somewhere in and amongst the many jumpsuits and mechanics overalls that Hera wore, he’d forgotten that their captain was in fact female, and a very attractive one at that. Sabine tried to push down the twinge in her gut. She knew it was slightly irrational and probably expected since she spent most of her time in her armor, but there was a part of her that, deep down, wished she could inspire that sort of reaction when she walked into a room. No, she would probably never be able to pull of a dress like the one Hera was wearing now, but she wouldn’t mind occasionally being mistaken for a woman first and a Mandalorian second instead of the other way around.

She didn’t notice that Hera had walked over until the Twi’lek was right in front of her. She smiled kindly, her eyes lighting up, “you look nice too Sabine. I love the orange!”

Sabine allowed a small grin to cross her face, “Thanks.”

“Alright,” Hera turned, suddenly all business, “everyone knows what they’re doing? Kanan and I will distract the Duke and Duchess while Ezra slips passed the guards and into the couple’s bedroom. Inside is a safe with a small data stick that contains recent Imperial troop movements and supply caches. Grab that and anything else you can find. Once Ezra is safely back with us, we’ll quietly slip out and Zeb and Chop will pick us up.”

She looked around the room, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

“Ok, we’re good to go. Comm check?”

Chopper warbled an affirmative.

“Perfect. Let’s party.” 

* * *

Infiltrating the Duke and Duchess’ manor was less of a challenge than the team expected. Security at the initial checkpoint barely glanced at their credentials before confirming they were on the guest list and waving them through. The second set of guards was more thorough, running a portable scanner over each guest to check for weapons. No one seemed overly concerned and the atmosphere was relaxed, but Sabine did note a couple ways she could’ve snuck a small holdout blaster through.

Once inside they met their hosts, who were, quite predictably, boring. What Sabine wasn’t counting on, however, was their daughter. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Kanan introduced Hera and Ezra before immediately starting a lengthy discussion about the trade routes and hyperspace lanes between Corellia and Hosnian Prime. The pair had just begun to lead the rotund Duke over to one of the manor’s large viewing windows to allow Ezra to slowly slip away when a blond ball of energy flounced up to the group.

“Daddy!” She cried, throwing her arms around the Duke’s large neck, “aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Sabine managed to keep most of the surprise from her face. The Duke’s daughter was about her age and shockingly attractive – or at least she would’ve been if she hadn’t tried to take fashion advice from five separate holovid stars and combine their styles into one look. Her platinum hair was fixed in some intricate up-do that must’ve taken force-knows how long to prepare and her dress…if you could even call it that…was about a size and a half too small. Sabine figured that the girl was toeing the line for indecent exposure even here on Hosnian Prime and had probably crossed it in a few of the more conservative systems. Her lips were painted a bright cherry red and large, sparkly earrings dangled from her lobes.

The Duke, clearly taken aback by his daughter’s sudden appearance, needed a moment to compose himself before chuckling and turning to his guests. 

“This,” he smiled proudly to Kanan and Hera, “is my beautiful daughter Dani. Dani, this is Jax, his nephew Dev, and the lady Chir’da.” 

Dani smiled brightly, shaking each of their hands in turn, her gaze lingering for a moment too long (in Sabine’s estimation) on Ezra before continuing to Hera.

“What can I do for you sweetie?” The Duke asked, “Jax and I were just beginning to talk business.”

Dani pouted, “the servers won’t let me have a drink unless you’re there.”

The Duke looked down, clearly torn between wanting to appease his daughter and recognizing the necessity of business. Sabine hoped he would just send the annoying brat away when the Duke’s eyes suddenly alit on Ezra.

“Dev! Would it be too much to ask that you accompany Dani over to the bar? Tell them I sent you. Order whatever you like.”

He smiled ingratiatingly, like he was doing Ezra a huge favor. Sabine sighed in relief, there was no way Ezra was going to be suckered into babysitting a pampered heiress when they had a mission to tend to. In fact, she was looking forward to watching the hopeful look drop off Dani’s face.

Ezra himself seemed a bit stunned and when he didn’t answer, Kanan stepped in.

“Thank you for the offer sir, but I thi-”

“No it’s ok,” Sabine was stunned to see a bright grin on Ezra’s face, “I’d be more than happy to escort your daughter.” And without another word, he stepped up and offered his arm to Dani who giggled and pulled him toward the bar.

Even Hera, typically a portrait of tranquility, looked a little stunned as the pair walked off. In fact, if Sabine didn’t know better, Ezra’s gaze was quite a bit south of Dani’s eyes. And if the look on the heiress’ face was anything to go by, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

Sabine took a step back from Kanan and Hera and subtly activated her comm, _“Spectre six, what do you think you’re doing!? We don’t have time for this! Get rid of the floozy and get back to the mission!”_

Ezra didn’t react to Sabine’s whispered outburst until Dani had dragged him all the way across the room to the bar. Only when she had turned to order her drink (a Tatooine Sunset) did Ezra look back. Sabine scowled and jerked her head back toward Kanan and Hera. He needed to get back pronto and stop being distracted with that girl. She was already tired of playing bodyguard and felt very out of place among the myriad of high class, well-dressed women. Compared to them, she was sure she looked like a simple peasant girl who’d gotten loose with the hair dyes.

But instead of excusing himself (or just leaving, Sabine wasn’t picky), Ezra grinned even wider and had the audacity to wink at her. Then he turned back to the bar. Sabine was speechless. The kid was ignoring her! 

Sabine watched as Ezra ordered a Corellian Whiskey (at least he still had some taste), before laughing at something Dani said and allowing himself to be led further into the manor. Sabine’s blood boiled. Who did this girl think she was? More importantly, who did Ezra think he was? Just because some girl was willing to flash a little skin and laugh at one of his stupid jokes, didn’t make him some holovid Casanova! I mean, sure he looked a lot better with the nicer clothes and yes, the scruffiness did have a certain sort of charm, but really, this was ridiculous! She was just about to go over there and give Ezra a piece of her mind when she felt a hand on her arm.

It was Hera. “Spectre Five,” she whispered, “you need to control yourself. He’s going to be fine.”

Sabine shook her head. Why didn’t Hera see it? Ezra was now out of sight doing who knows what with that girl while the Rebels were counting on them to get those plans from the Duke’s safe!

“He’s not fine!” She hissed, “he’s off _flirting_ with that pampered princess instead of focusing on the mission!”

Hera raised an eyebrow. “And why can’t he do both at the same time?” Sabine started to say something when Hera cut her off again. “Listen!” She said, “and trust Ezra.” 

With that she turned and went back to Kanan, a pale green arm slipping around his waist. Soon she was laughing at something the Duchess said, seemingly unconcerned at everything that had transpired.

Turning back, Sabine pretended to scan the room, instead focusing on her comm. Right now she could hear Dani talking, apparently to one of the manor’s many security personnel.

_“It’s ok, he’s with me. I already cleared it with Daddy. I’m just going to show Dev a couple of our paintings. He loves Janyar of Bith and we have a couple originals in the sitting room.”_

_Oh, no he didn’t._ First the kid was ignoring the mission, now he was using Sabine’s knowledge of art to pick up girls!? He didn’t even know anything about Janyar, let alone have the capacity to appreciate his brilliance! Oh Ezra was so going to get it when they got back to the _Ghost_.

Sabine heard the guard let them pass. She could just imagine Ezra holding Dani’s hand as they wandered the halls in search of Janyar’s paintings. The thought made her want to pull her hair out.

The pair made idle conversation until Dani stopped abruptly. Sabine wasn’t sure why until she started speaking again.

_“And this is one of Janyar’s most famous paintings. It’s said to be one of his earlier works, depicting the famed jungles of his homeworld, Clak’dor VII before industrialization and war destroyed the planet’s ecosystem.”_

Sabine groaned. If the girl was describing what she thought she was, that could only be _Synchrony and Harmony_! Most scholars thought that painting had been lost years ago. It belonged in a museum, not some wealthy Imperial’s manor. And to think that Ezra was getting a chance to see it and not her!

Over the comm, she heard Ezra hum appreciatively. “I like it a lot. It’s very green and…impressionistic?”

Sabine nearly facepalmed. _Synchrony and Harmony_ was one of Janyar’s most realistic paintings. His impressionistic phase didn’t come until much later in his life.

Thankfully, Dani didn’t seem to notice. In fact, if Sabine was reading her right, she had something else entirely on her mind.

_“It’s very beautiful. Daddy says it’s worth a fortune. But I have something even better I want to show you.”_

Sabine didn’t know what Dani was doing, but Ezra’s voice unexpectedly shot up an octave.

_“Ummm…ok” _

Suddenly the comm was filled with Dani’s high-pitched giggling and what sounded like a door closing. Sabine couldn’t help herself.

_“Spectre Six, what do you think you’re doing?”_

_“Uh…Dev? What was that? Did you hear someone?”_

Sabine frowned. Dani’s voice was much closer than the last time, and if she could pick up any feedback from Ezra’s comm that could only mean that she was practically on top of him.

She heard Ezra chuckle and assure Dani that he hadn’t heard anything (though Sabine was tempted to shout something through the comm just to prove him wrong).

_“Well, if you’re sure that we’re alone…”_ The girl’s voice trailed off. Sabine recognized the tone of her voice. Surely Ezra wasn’t that dense…he must know where this was going.

_“You were going to show me something?” _Sabine nearly facepalmed. Force-help this boy.

Dani, apparently, wasn’t interested in waiting for supernatural intervention. Over the comm, Sabine could hear a sharp intake of breath followed by what could only be described as wet smacking. _Ewwwww…._

She glanced over to see that Kanan and gone rigid and Hera looked like she’d just eaten something particularly distasteful. Sabine was glad that she wasn’t the only one who felt like ripping out her comm and grinding it underfoot. In fact, it was probably a good thing that Hera hadn’t let her bring blasters, because the wine bottles behind the bar suddenly looked like very inviting targets.

Back on the comm, Sabine heard Dani excuse herself for a moment to “freshen up” and a door being closed in the background. Then she heard some running, a lot of rustling and what sounded like a chair sliding across the floor.

_“Spectre Six, what are you doing?”_ She hissed. Now there was a voice shouting in the background.

Ezra was breathing heavily. _“Sorry…I, ummm….sort of panicked.”_

_“What did you do!?”_

_“Ummm…I may have locked Dani in the ‘fresher.” _He sounded a bit sheepish, but certainly not enough for Sabine to forgive his mid-mission make out session.

_“Why did you do that!?”_

_“I don’t know!” _He exclaimed, _“the girl’s insane and I needed to get away from her.”_

Sabine groaned, but just as she was about to come up with another snippy response, Hera’s voice cut across the comm, _“Spectre Five, now is not the time. Spectre Six, will the door hold?”_

_“Uh, I think so? I wedged the chair in there pretty good.”_

_“Good, now use your brain! Go find the safe in the master suite and complete the mission!”_

_“Oh…right. Yeah. On it!” _He’d forgotten about the mission!? _Oh, Ezra was so dead._

Sabine paced behind Kanan and Hera, for the moment keeping up the pretense of a bodyguard. She could hear Ezra through the comm, his footsteps hurrying through the manor’s labyrinthine interior.

_“Come on, come on, come on…found it! Ok, I’m in. Now where would they hide a safe?”_

Sabine heard Ezra sliding around what sounded like clothes.

_“How many shoes does one woman need?” _Ezra mumbled. _“Well it’s not in the closet. I’ll check the dresser.” _More slamming as he pawed his way through the belongings. _“Hmmm…wonder how she would wear that…”_

_“Spectre Six!” _Sabine could just imagine the kid studying some of the Duchess’ lacy unmentionables. _“Perv later. Find the safe!”_

_“Fine, fine…well it’s not in there…” _He trailed off, _“which means…found it! It was behind the picture above the bed.”_

_“Real creative,” _Sabine muttered. _“Now open it and get what we need. That girl isn’t going to stay trapped forever.”_

She watched the crowd and listened with one ear as Ezra worked. Apparently the safe was a bit outdated and something he was quite familiar with. After a brief moment, he cheered quietly.

_“Alright guys, I’ve got the data stick. But I’m going to need a little distraction to get past the guards on the way out.”_

_“We’re on it, Spectre Six,” _Hera said. _“Let us know when you’re in position.”_

_“30 seconds.”_

Hera whispered something in Kanan’s ear before turning purposely toward the guards standing near the corridor Dani and Ezra had disappeared down earlier. Kanan lagged behind, following at a discreet distance, scowling deeply. When Hera came within view of the guards, that reason became clear.

The Twi’lek captain was using every inch of her toned form to capture and hold their attention. She even added a flirtatious twitch of her lekku as she sauntered over. Leaning close, she whispered something into the guard’s ear and motioned to his partner with a long finger. Sabine had to stifle a laugh when he almost tripped himself in his haste to join his friend.

Hera was giggling far too loudly and had even gone as far as to lean her head against the guard’s shoulder. The man looked torn between his duty and his ill-concealed desire.

_“Don’t sell it too hard, Spectre Two,” _Kanan’s barely constrained growl rolled over the comms.

Hera ignored him. Instead, Sabine saw her glance over the guard’s shoulder and down the hall. 

_“I’m at the corner now, Spectre Two.”_

Hera reached up and playfully tugged at one of the guard’s uniforms, gently turning him so he was fully facing her. She giggled again at something that one of the guards said, swatting his shoulder.

_“You’re clear Spectre Six, get out of there.” _Kanan snapped, clearly tiring of Hera’s game.

Sabine saw a flash of blue-black hair duck behind the guards and quickly disappear among the other partygoers. Suddenly he was at her side, a bright grin on his face.

_“He’s clear Spectre Two. Quit giving Spectre One a coronary.”_

Hera let her hand trail down the guard’s arm before sauntering off toward the bar, two pairs of eyes watching her every move. 

An unintelligible growl echoed through the comm and Sabine’s eyes snapped toward Kanan. The Jedi was stalking through the crowd, shouldering aside anyone who got in the way. Hera only looked up when he was within arm’s length. She opened her mouth to say something when Kanan molded his body to hers, capturing her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Sabine felt her mouth drop open and heard Ezra gasp. She’d always known that Hera and Kanan had a close relationship, but most of their more overt affections were kept behind closed doors. She’d never seen the Jedi like this. It made her a bit uncomfortable, like she was intruding on a private moment. But there was also a part of her that felt a little jealous – to have someone get that worked up just from a small bit of play-acting…those feelings couldn’t be faked.

When they finally broke apart, Sabine saw Kanan throw the guards a look that clearly let them know where they stood. He kept an arm around Hera’s waist as he led her toward the gala’s exit. The entire party had hushed at their display, and only after they’d walked off did conversation pick up again.

Sabine glanced down at Ezra, “I think that’s our cue.”

The Padawan could only nod as he trailed in her wake.

* * *

They arrived at the _Ghost _fifteen minutes later. Zeb and Chopper met them at the bottom of the landing ramp.

“Hey guys, how’d it g-” he trailed off when Hera brushed by, leaving an agitated Kanan in her wake.

He looked up as Sabine and Ezra ascended the ramp. “What happened?”

The Mandalorian rolled her eyes. “Men are idiots.”

When she got inside, it was clear that Hera had already started on Kanan.

“What were you thinking!? You threatened the mission, everything that we worked for – Ezra’s safety, Sabine’s safety, my safety – with that outburst! You made us the center of attention! Do you think anyone is going to forget us now? Who do you think the Duke is going to suspect when they find the data missing? They may not be able to pin it on us, but they sure won’t forget our faces!”

Kanan’s scowl softened a bit as Hera went on, but Sabine could still see his residual stubbornness – he was not particularly sorry for what he’d done.

He opened his mouth to say something when Hera whirled and pointed an accusing finger at Sabine.

“And what about you!? That was one of the most unprofessional displays of comm discipline I’ve ever seen! Ezra’s methods may have been unconventional, but he got the job done! You both,” she waved her hand between Kanan and Sabine, “need to get your jealousy in check. Sabine, have a little more faith in Ezra. Kanan – you know where we stand. Just because I had to flirt with a couple guards doesn’t mean anything in light of the _years_ we’ve had together!”

She shook her head. “I’m going to bed. Chop, get us in the air. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Sabine frowned as Hera left. _Jealousy? _ That wasn’t why she was upset with Ezra, was it? Hera had to be mistaken. Dani was distracting Ezra from the mission. That was all there was to it. 

In her heart Sabine knew those excuses were flimsy. Ezra had begun to grow up lately and there was certainly more to him than the smart-aleck kid they’d picked up on Lothal. Sabine had always been careful to not let herself get too close to anyone. Kanan and Hera had been the first two she’d let in since Ketsu. And guys…frankly they’d all been more trouble than they were worth up to this point. But there had been something about seeing Ezra with Dani tonight…about watching her flirt with him…hearing them kiss…that set her teeth on edge.

She sighed. Maybe Hera was right. This kind of thinking was better left for morning.

As she was heading back to her room, she heard Zeb’s voice carry down the corridor, “Hey kid, why is there lipstick on your collar…?”

Sabine angrily punched the keypad. Her bedroom door couldn’t slide open fast enough.

_Stupid Dani. She didn’t care what Hera said. Next time she was bringing her blasters._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. The Supply Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a couple of you asked, I honestly wasn't thinking of Dani from GoT when I was writing the previous chapter, but maybe there was something subconscious going on...I enjoyed the coincidence nonetheless!

**The Supply Run**

_1.7 years after Malachor_

“Ok, we’ve got two weeks worth of rations, a pair of extra stabilizers for the _Ghost_, and some spare parts for Chopper. Anything else we’re missing?”

“Nope,” Sabine shook her head, mentally going down the list of items Hera had given them before they’d left that morning. “That’s everything. Which leaves us…slightly more than two hours before Hera’s expecting us. Something you want to do or should we just head back?”

Ezra re-adjusted the pack of supplies over his shoulder (he’d insisted on carrying everything, much to Sabine’s chagrin) as he scanned the bustling market.

“Let’s head this way. There are a couple interesting shops that sell art supplies. You’re probably running low – you used a lot of paint decorating those TIEs last week.”

Ezra trotted off but Sabine stayed in one place. He’d been surprising her more and more lately – noticing small, seemingly insignificant details about her life and then going out of his way to do something for her. It was never anything major and he didn’t make a big deal out of it, but she’d noticed. 

Some were simple, like wrestling the last cup of caf away from Kanan when she’d wandered into the lounge after a late night of painting, but others were a bit more involved, like defusing a rather boisterous argument between Zeb and Chopper. 

A few evenings ago she’d been enjoying some personal time tinkering with one of the speeder bikes when the pair had burst into the hangar arguing about who was faster. They were looking for Sabine to time them as they made rotations around the _Ghost_. She’d been about ready to blast the pair for interrupting when Ezra slid down the ladder and declared that he was _certain_ he could kick both their butts in dejarik and that they’d better come up to the lounge because Kanan was going to eat the last frozen meiloorun bar. Zeb and Chopper, their argument quickly forgotten, had stormed up the ladder, leaving her in blessed silence. 

Just before he ducked out as well, Ezra stopped and met Sabine’s eyes. With a crooked smile, he reached into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit and pulled out the aforementioned meiloorun bar. That smile morphed into a smirk as he wagged it in the air and lobbed the frozen treat in her general direction. Sabine caught it with a chuckle and Ezra sketched a mock salute that reminded her a bit of Kanan before scurrying up the ladder himself.

But these displays of thoughtfulness were only part of the reason that Sabine found herself hurrying to keep up with Ezra as he wove his way through the crowded Lothal marketplace. His rather recent growth spurt had her matching his long strides as opposed to the other way around. He no longer seemed to keep to her shadow and now, to her slight chagrin, he was actually a touch taller than her (something Zeb had made casual mention of a time or two). His eyes hadn’t lost much of their boyish curiosity, but some of that youthful enthusiasm had been tempered by experience. Life as part of the _Ghost’s_ crew hadn’t always been easy, but Ezra wore the time well.

As they walked, the pair dropped into a comfortable silence. It was easy to forget how little downtime there was when everyone was either cooped up in the ship or focused on a high-stress mission. They wove their way through the market, dodging a pair of Twi’leks and a rather grumpy looking Devaronian before Ezra stopped in front of a brightly colored shop. The proprietor, a teal-skinned Rodian, warbled a greeting when they ducked through the door.

Ezra hadn’t been lying, this place was perfect for her art. Sabine hummed quietly to herself as she picked through colors, primers and sealants to her heart’s content. She had set aside over a dozen spray bottles when she heard Ezra come up behind her.

“Go with the darker red, it’ll help your firebirds pop more.”

Sabine glanced down at the two spray cans she’d been debating. One was deep red, almost maroon, while the other was bordering on a pinkish rose. She considered his input before nodding.

  
“I think you’re right. Though I have to say I’m impressed, I didn’t realize you paid that close of attention to my work.”

She grabbed two more cans of her chosen shade of red when she heard Ezra mumble something under his breath.

“Huh? Did you say something?”

Ezra must’ve not been paying attention, because his eyes were focused somewhere over her left shoulder. A sheepish blush crept up his neck when he noticed Sabine’s look.

“Ummm, me? No…no…I didn’t say anything.”

Sabine raised skeptical eyebrow but decided not to press the issue right now. Done with her shopping, she paid for the paint without incident and met Ezra outside. “Ready to go back?” She asked.

When Ezra didn’t immediately respond, she glanced over. The same distracted look from earlier had returned, only this time it was mixed with a hint of anxiety and he kept glancing farther down the street. There was nothing in that direction that Sabine could see – they’d gotten everything from Hera’s list, and she didn’t think Ezra needed to do any personal shopping either.

“Well…there is one thing that I’ve been thinking about getting…” He trailed off, not meeting her eyes.

“We’ve still got some time,” Sabine said, gently nudging his shoulder. He’d been more than willing to put up with her excursion (in fact, he’d even suggested it), so she didn’t mind spending a little time on his. It was the least she could do and, truth be told, she much preferred his company to Zeb or Chopper.

A slight smile crossed his face before disappearing completely. “No, it’s alright. We can go back to the _Ghost_.”

Sabine could see his hesitancy. He wanted to do something but was holding back. _Why? Was it her? Was he embarrassed?_

“You know,” she said slowly, “I can wait here if you want to go grab something really quick. I don’t mind.”

He let out a short laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “No that’s the thing – I need your help with this. I’m just not sure I have the courage to do it.”

_Courage? What was he talking about? Ezra was one of the bravest people she knew!_ _What could possibly be bothering him this much? _“Ezra… I’m sure we can figure it out, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is. Besides, I’m a Mandalorian and you’re a Jedi, I doubt there’s much that can stand in our way.” She patted her blasters appreciatively.

Ezra just shook his head and started walking. Since he wasn’t taking the route back to the _Ghost_, Sabine figured he was going wherever he needed to go. She followed but kept a hand on one of her blasters in case. Just when she was about to ask where they were headed, Ezra took a hard left and ducked through a poorly marked doorway.

It took Sabine a moment to read the sign, which had been written in about fifteen languages other than Basic. When she finally did find a translation she understood, a jolt of understanding raced through her and she burst through the door after her friend.

“Ezra! This is a –”

“Tattoo parlor,” he nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “I know. Qal and I are friends from my days back on the street. Always told me to come to him if I ever manned up enough to get a tattoo.”

The burly, green-skinned Mirialan (Qal, apparently) didn’t look up from where he was tattooing an intricate pattern on a female Twi’lek’s lekku. “Told the runt that whenever he needed some ink to impress a girl, I’d be there for him. Never figured he’d get the stones to actually do it.” He turned off the machine he’d been using to complete his design and gently blotted the small droplets of blood. He tapped the Twi’lek on the shoulder. “We’re done for today Oajun’laro. Come back next week for a few touch ups.”

The woman gave him a toothy smile and pulled a couple credit chits out of her pocket. She tossed them to Qal before walking out of the store.

“So,” Qal said as he finished cleaning his hands, “is this finally the girl? She looks like more than you could handle, kid.”

Sabine cocked her hip, grateful that her helmet hid her blush.

Ezra’s tanned skin may have flushed, but for once, he didn’t get particularly flustered. In fact, he seemed to enjoy Qal’s teasing. “You’re right,” he laughed. “I probably couldn’t. But no, this is Sabine. She’s not my girl. She’s the artist.”

“I’m what?” Sabine exclaimed. _What was Ezra getting at? She didn’t know anything about tattoos!_

“Can you draw one of your firebirds for me?” He asked.

“Of course…” Sabine trailed off, not seeing where he was going with this.

“Good, because I want to get one of those tattooed right here.” Ezra shrugged out of his jacket and slipped off his shirt, turning his back to Sabine and nodding to the upper portion of his left shoulder blade.

For a moment Sabine couldn’t speak. She wasn’t unfamiliar with male anatomy and the close quarters of the _Ghost_ didn’t afford an overabundance of privacy, but it had been a while since she’d seen Ezra shirtless. And whatever she’d assumed he’d been hiding under the loose orange jumpsuit and brown bantha-hide jacket didn’t do the current view justice. 

_Well he certainly doesn’t look like a kid anymore. _The observation flashed through her brain an instant before she had a chance to tamp it down.

Ezra definitely had grown, and while he’d never be classified as particularly big or broad shouldered, the constant training with Kanan and running around on missions had left his body very lean. He wasn’t burly like a typical Mandalorian, but Sabine appreciated the view. And add a few tattoos? _Blast! _A girl couldn’t help but stare.

“Sabine?” Ezra’s voice broke her from her daydream and Sabine shuffled uncomfortably. Hopefully he misinterpreted her prolonged silence as surprise as opposed to something else.

She looked over at Qal. “Can you give us a minute?”

The Mirialan smirked at her but nodded and disappeared into the back of the shop. Apparently he hadn’t missed the once (ok, twice) over the Mandalorian had just given her friend. Ezra, however, appeared concerned.

“If you don’t want to, I understand,” he shrugged. “I know your art is pretty personal, but I think it’d be cool”

“Have you really thought about it?” She asked, “don’t you think the tattoo will be a dead giveaway to the Empire? It could compromise our undercover missions.”

He nodded, “that’s why I want to get it on my shoulder, not my arm. My jumpsuit and jacket will always cover it. And it’s not like we have any missions that are going to require me to go around shirtless.”

_Shame. _

_Wait? Where did that come from!? Stupid brain. Stupid Ezra. Stupid tattoo._

She shook her head. “And you know this is permanent?”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Yes, mom. I know it’s permanent.”

“Ok, but why the firebird? Why my design?”

Now it was Ezra’s turn to look slightly uncomfortable. “Well it’s our symbol. It represents the team, who we are, what we stand for. You taunt the Imperials with it all the time. What better way to do that than for my tattoo to be the last thing they see as we disappear into the night after blowing up their base? Not that they would, of course…because my shirt would be on…” Ezra laughed, smiling sheepishly at Sabine.

“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t want people to call me a poser if I get the tattoo after your art becomes famous. It’s got to be now, while I still have the chance!”

Sabine couldn’t help but smile. She punched his arm for good measure. “Nice try…suck up.”

Ezra just grinned.

“Well if you’re sure, I’m happy to draw something Qal can work with.”

The pair walked back to the center of the shop. 

“Hey Qal!” Ezra called, “we’re ready for you. You have anything Sabine can sketch the design on?”

The big Mirialan nodded and grabbed a board from underneath one of the counters. 

“Have at it, missy.”

“Ok, so…” Sabine said, eyeing the board carefully. She needed to make sure she got this just right. She wouldn’t let Ezra get the tattoo unless the design was perfect. “What colors were you thinking?”

“How about orange with a dark red background?” Ezra grinned.

Sabine chuckled and grabbed the appropriate paint cans from her earlier shopping spree. “Something that will really pop?”

“Exactly.”

Taking her helmet off and setting it aside so she could work, Sabine carefully sketched the team’s trademark firebird calling-card. She paid particular attention to the crest, making sure the lines were sharp and there was no mistaking it for anything other than her handywork. When she was finally satisfied, she spun it around to show Ezra and Qal.

“Look good?”

Ezra beamed and Qal nodded. “I can definitely do that.” He gestured toward the chair, “whenever you’re ready kid.”

Ezra’s smile quickly faded, replaced by a look of nervousness as he lay facedown on the table in front of Qal. The large alien positioned himself at Ezra’s side and then carefully took out a pen. With deliberate strokes that seemed at odds with his large frame, he began to sketch Sabine’s design on Ezra’s shoulder blade.

“Come over here and watch little lady,” he said, motioning Sabine over to his side. “I want to make sure everything is just right for Ezra’s lady.”

Sabine wanted to retort that it was Ezra getting the tattoo; he should be the one that Qal was asking for approval, not her. She also certainly wasn’t _his _lady. But when Ezra opened his mouth and asked for her opinion, her objection died in her throat. She bent over, gently running her fingers over the design, trying desperately to ignore the goosebumps that cascaded down Ezra’s back.

“This wing,” she tapped the leftmost arc of the firebird, “needs to come to a point. Don’t round the tip – make it more distinct, almost harsh.”

Qal hummed in approval, “I like the way your Mandalorian thinks, kid. Always knew you needed someone to keep you in line. Wouldn’t have pegged her for an artist though.”

Sabine crossed her arms and eyed the Mirialan crossly. _This guy needed to take a hint_.

“She’s one of the best,” Ezra nodded, rapping his knuckles against Sabine’s armored leg plate appreciatively. “Anything else look out of place?”

“Well…” Sabine trailed off, “I was thinking we could add a puffer pig to your other shoulder while we’re at it.”

Ezra groaned and thumped his head against the table while Qal chuckled. “I think that means we’re good. Give me a little time and we’ll have you all tatted up.”

Since there was no one else in the shop, Sabine perched herself on a table across from where Qal was working and watched him as he sterilized the needle and tested it a few times in the air.

He held up a color pallet to show Sabine. “Just confirming, these colors look right?” She nodded and he got to work. As the needle buzzed, she took some time to observe. Qal was clearly very skilled: each drop of the needle was carefully measured and each touch of color done with purpose. Ezra, to his credit, barely winced when Qal started. As the Mirialan continued, he began to relax, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

A while later, Qal sat back and stretched, cracking his back and standing up slowly. He motioned Sabine over. “What do you think?”

Her first reaction was that it was perfect. The orange firebird blazed in sharp relief against a striking background of deep red flames. The flames seemed to lick their way up Ezra’s shoulder blade, coming to a stop only when they threatened to crest the upper ridges of his back. She had to resist the urge to run her fingers over it once again. She licked her lips, her mouth inexplicably dry.

“Uhhh…Sabine?” Ezra sounded worried. “Is it alright? You didn’t let Qal draw a puffer pig instead, did you?”

“Take a look for yourself,” she said, unable to keep the grin from her voice.

Ezra stood and turned his back toward a mirror Qal had tacked to the wall. He flexed his shoulder a couple times and stretched his muscles, watching the firebird dance against his skin.

His eyes were wide with excitement when he turned back around, “it’s awesome! Thanks Qal!” He pumped the man’s hand. “I’ve been wanting to get this for a while!”

“How long is a while?” Sabine teased.

Ezra blushed and didn’t answer, instead grabbing a handful of credits from his pocket and putting them on the table. “How much do I owe you?”

Qal’s long finger deftly pulled aside three of the higher denomination chits. “That should do fine.” He reached under his desk and pulled out a small bottle, “just put some of this ointment on it for the next two weeks and keep it covered while it’s still tender. Other than that, you should be fine.”

Sabine watched Ezra settle up with Qal when an idea struck her. A crazy idea. A bit rash and something she hadn’t even considered until Ezra had dragged her in here. “Hey Ezra,” she called, “give me a minute, I want to talk to Qal about something.”

Ezra shrugged and Sabine motioned the Mirialan toward the back room she had seen him disappear into earlier.

“What can I do for you?” He smirked, seeming to know what she was going to ask, “you want some ink too?”

* * *

About an hour later, Sabine emerged to find Ezra slumped over in one of the shop’s scattered chairs.

“You said you’d only be a minute,” he groaned.

“Oh hush,” she said, rapping her knuckles against his head. “I waited for you.”

Ezra stretched, “you ready to go now?”

Sabine nodded and turned to Qal. “Thanks again. It was an…interesting afternoon to say the least.”

The Mirialan smiled and dropped a bottle of ointment into one of Sabine’s bags. “Same rules apply to you. Later kids!” And shooed them from his shop.

Sabine could only grin when Ezra’s eyes widened. “You got one too!? No way! Let me see!?”

Sabine took a minute before replacing her helmet. Pausing just long enough for Ezra to see a wicked grin cross her face. “I don’t think you could handle it,” she smirked.

“But Sabine…” Ezra whined, doing his best pitiful lothcat impersonation.

“Ezra,” Sabine purred (was she flirting? yeah, she supposed she was), “you know when women say that part of the fun is in the mystery? Well…let’s just leave it at that.”

Ezra’s eyes widened and Sabine suddenly felt a rush that she usually didn’t get wearing her armor. It made her a bit bolder, a bit more willing to add a subtle sway to her hips as she increased her stride and walked away from Ezra. The slight soreness on the inside of her left hip where she’d had Qal replicate her firebird design suddenly seemed to fade completely away. Sure, maybe her decision to get a tattoo was a bit impulsive, but she was happy with it and Ezra’s reaction made it totally worth it. And if the firebird’s blue-black color scheme happened to remind her of someone’s hair, well that was her business entirely.

* * *

When the pair finally returned to the _Ghost_ an hour later, they found Hera and Kanan standing on the loading ramp. The Twi’lek was leaned up against one of the struts, her arms crossed while Kanan glared at the two of them.

“And where have you two been?” Hera asked when they came within shouting distance.

Ezra grimaced, but slung his pack off his back and set it in front of the captain. “We got everything you asked…we just got a little sidetracked along the way.”

“I can see that,” she scowled. “But that doesn’t give you an excuse not to comm us. You need to let us know where you are. Kanan was almost ready to get Zeb and take the speeders into the market to look for you.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. Sometimes Hera was lax about their return time, other days they got read the riot act if there were even a couple minutes late. It looked like today was one of those days.

She was thinking about opening her mouth when Ezra spoke up.

“C’mon Hera. We’re sorry we didn’t comm you and we’re sorry we were late, but Sabine and I were just having a little fun. We got sidetracked in the market and lost track of time. We didn’t do anything stupid.”

Hera huffed and shook her head, “you’re both scrubbing the _Ghost’s _air intake and exhaust manifold tomorrow. So don’t even think about making other plans.”

Ezra groaned and followed Sabine into the hold.

“So we didn’t do anything stupid?” She asked, once they were out of Hera and Kanan’s earshot. “Because you know Hera is going to freak when she sees your tattoo.”

Ezra snorted, “and she won’t when she sees yours?”

“Not unless she sees me in my underwear.”

Sabine had the pleasure of watching Ezra’s eyes go wide right before he ran smack into the doorframe.

_Oh this was going to be fun…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite finished with the next chapter, so it may be a week or two until it's done. Hopefully sooner! Please review!


	4. The Weapons Cache

**The Weapons Cache**

_2.0 years after Malachor_

“Just fly casual.” 

“Dear,” Hera said, her voice saccharine sweet, “if you tell me how to fly my ship one more time, I’m going to shove you out the airlock.”

Kanan crossed his arms and playfully stuck his tongue out at the Twi’lek.

Sabine chuckled. Kanan had apparently picked up a few mannerisms from his protégé. Zeb and Ezra smirked beside her as Kanan turned his head in their direction and folded his arms across his chest.

“Just because I’m an old man, doesn’t mean I can’t wipe those grins off your faces.”

“Sure you can dear,” Hera said absently, reaching up and patting his arm. “Now let me concentrate, we wouldn’t want flight control to think there was anything too stiff about my flying.”

Ezra stifled another laugh and Zeb playfully took a swat at the back of his head. Kanan grunted, throwing his hands up in a why do I even try sort of gesture. Sabine, meanwhile, turned her attention to the front viewport, looking out over Hera’s shoulder as the Ghost approached the aquatic landscape below. While she knew it from reputation, Sibensko was not a place they could afford to take lightly.

From pole to pole, the world was covered in a rough, choppy sea, the expanse only broken by an occasional piece of floating detritus or a pack of narrow-bodied sea creatures that seemed to delight in leaping above the waves. To the casual observer, the planet appeared inhospitable, but according to Hera’s contact, a vast network of tubes and tunnels housed a criminal underworld that lay a few hundred feet below the surface.

When they reached the designated coordinates, Hera keyed the Ghost’s comm, “transmitting codes now.”

There was a brief pause after the transmission sent. Because the base was so far underneath the water’s surface, it didn’t need traditional laser cannons or missile tubes to deter unwanted visitors, it could simply ignore them. Short of a planetary bombardment by the Empire’s largest star destroyers, Sibensko was impenetrable.

Sabine was about to suggest that Hera send the codes again when the comm crackled to life.

“Codes confirmed. Standby to land.”

“Umm, Hera?” Ezra said, leaning over the console to gaze at the water below. “Where are we supposed to land?”

“What’s wrong Bridger?” Sabine teased, “afraid of a little water?”

“No,” he snapped, leaning back from the viewport. “I just…” he trailed off, “that’s a lot of water.”

Sabine felt the snappy retort die on her lips. Had she even seen Ezra swim before? Lothal didn’t exactly have a lot of water and even if it did, she doubted he spent a lot of time in it. She let the conversation drop but didn’t miss the grateful smile that Ezra sent in her direction.

Ezra’s original question was answered shortly when a large, circular platform crested the waves. Its slate gray surface was slick from the crashing waves, but otherwise in good condition. A section of it was clearly marked off by red stripes, awaiting the Ghost’s arrival.

“Are those generators?” Sabine asked as she peered over the console.

Hera nodded, “Looks like it – they should protect the ship from the elements while we descend.”

“And you’re sure that they’ll hold?” Ezra gulped as the Ghost gently set down on the marked space. 

Sabine watched in fascination as the generators flared to life and the force field began to repel the water – first the rain, then the sea as the platform began to descend. Soon the Ghost was entirely submerged in the murky green of Sibensko’s sea.

Sabine patted Ezra on the shoulder. “See? Nothing to worry about.” 

Even though he rolled his eyes and pretended not to have been bothered, Sabine saw him eyeing the generators carefully as their journey continued. It wasn’t long before they began to see low lights emerge eerily from the gloom, and soon a labyrinthine network of undersea domes and passageways, fuzzy with algae and age, came into focus. Sabine was amazed. Despite the planet’s criminal reputation, the base was truly an architectural marvel. 

The Ghost’s platform shuddered as it came to a halt amongst the jaws of two durasteel plates that sprung from a subsection of one of the domes like an undersea claw. They closed with a bang before three additional generators came to life, pumping the water from the newly sealed room. Once the water was gone, the force field turned off, leaving nothing but small puddles behind.

“Pretty slick,” Hera said begrudgingly. She levered herself from the captain’s chair and headed aft. Everyone followed. “So we’re all clear about our roles, right?” She asked, “we’ve been told to head toward the Drunken Sea Monkey. It’s a large bar in the center of this dome. My source told me that we’d receive further instructions on the way which will lead us to the large cache of Clone Wars-era weapons and starship parts that the Rebellion desperately needs.”

“On the way?” Zeb groaned. “You mean we don’t even know who were meeting? Hasn’t that turned out poorly before?”

Sabine’s stomach clinched. Even though it had happened over a year ago, she hadn’t forgotten their trip to Jakku. She doubted she ever would forget that ill-fated mission and her encounter with that particular Falleen.

Before Hera could respond, Kanan cut Zeb off, “it’s Hera’s source so we’re going to play by his rules, but everyone needs to keep their eyes and ears open – this could be another trap and with the Ghost at the bottom of the ocean, it’s not like we have a quick getaway plan. Be smart. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, “why does it feel like you’re looking at me when you say that?”

“Because you have an annoying tendency to act first and think later,” Kanan grumbled. “Now let’s go.”

Ezra led the group – and Chopper – down the ramp and onto the landing bay floor, dodging a few puddles that hadn’t quite dried. The dome itself wasn’t particularly large – though it probably could have fit another small freighter next to the Ghost – and maintained a musty dampness from surrounding ocean. Other than that, the seals were tight and the signs of wear that Sabine had seen on the way down weren’t present on the mechanisms’ key components. In fact, if Sabine didn’t miss her guess, the two airlocks on the opposite side of the bay meant that this undersea dome had originally been constructed as part of a space station. How it ended up on the bottom of the sea, she had no idea.

Zeb had apparently been looking around as well, because after a cursory examination he shook his head, “I thought this place was supposed to be famous for its security. I haven’t seen a thing.”

“That’s because you didn’t look closely enough, you big lug,” Sabine nodded at the edge of the dome. “There are embedded heat sensors and motion detectors along that rim and multiple cameras scattered up top. And if I had to guess, the floor can be magnetized to keep most ships in place.”

Zeb shrugged, “yeah but I don’t see any blasters.”

“They don’t need to shoot you. If they don’t like what you’re doing, whoever’s in charge will just open the dome. The water may not shoot back but it’s deadlier than any blaster. It’s ingenious.”

Zeb sobered up quickly, his eyes bouncing across the platform. “So…what’s next? Why are we just standing here?”

Hera looked around. “This is just like any other docking bay. We’ve got to pay our landing fee. We’re waiting for the attendant.”

On cue, the reinforced door in front of them abruptly came to life, rattling open to reveal a short, hideously fat human. He waddled over to the crew, his feet slapping the damp floor like great, meaty pancakes. His shirt was caked with last night’s meal and the yellowed underarm stains smelled of something unmentionable. He held a datapad in in one hand, his sausage-like fingers smacking against its screen.

He took a long moment to scratch his belly before speaking.

“450 credits, all up front. No refunds, no questions and no,” he waved his hand in the general direction of Hera’s hip, “blasters.”

Hera’s eyes narrowed, “we agreed on 250.”

The man paused in the middle of picking something crusty off the shoulder of his shirt, his heavy brow coming down to almost cover his eyes.

“Questions cost you. Price is now 500 credits.”

“Why you little-” Zeb growled and reached for his bo-rifle before Kanan’s hand stopped him.

The man didn’t even blink, meeting Hera’s stony glare with one of practiced disinterest. “550.”

Hera held up a credit chit. “400. And we get to keep our blasters.”

The man eyed Hera for a long moment before holding out a hand. The instant the chit hit his palm it was gone, engulfed by his hairy mitt. Without a word, he turned and waddled back toward the door. Only when it closed behind him did Hera speak.

“Well that was unpleasant.”

“Yeah…why’d you give him all those credits? We could’ve taken him with our arms tied behind our backs.” Ezra asked.

The Twi’lek’s mouth compressed into a tight line, “we don’t need to draw any extra attention to ourselves by causing trouble. Better to give a little now and have them think we’re inexperienced. We’d much rather be overlooked than over scrutinized.”

Sabine nodded. Hera’s logic made sense, but she wasn’t happy about forking over the extra credits. The Rebellion was always tight on funds and it wasn’t like they were going to be reimbursed for their troubles. She figured those credits probably cost her a few cases of paint and that new spray nozzle she’d been looking at.

As they walked toward the exit, Hera had one last piece of advice, “keep your eyes open as we walk. This informant tends to hide instructions in plain sight. Advertisements, signs, placards – they’re all fair game. And Chopper,” she paused and wagged a finger at the surprisingly quiet droid, “behave yourself.”

The droid gave a rather rude-sounding raspberry but acquiesced, falling in behind the Lasat.

The group exited the landing bay – 294-B24 – and headed toward the bar at the station’s nexus. Sabine looked around as they walked. The walls were dark and a few lights were missing, but overall the corridor was passably clean. Her only real complaint was that the scrubbers seemed unable or unwilling to clean the dank, musty smell of seawater and mold from the air. When they reached a main artery, they finally began to see other beings moving about.

Large, colorful overhead signs stretched the width of corridor, blinking lights and flashing colors advertising everything from locally caught seafood to thermal detonators. Less savory endeavors – Twi-lek dancing girls and spice – were hocked openly. When a large Trandoshan came up and hissed an offer for Hera’s “services,” it took all of Kanan’s considerable willpower to keep his lightsaber on his hip.

“If I sense one more stray thought about you or Sabine from these lecherous idiots,” he muttered, “I’m going to cut a hole in the wall and flood this damn place.”

Sabine wished she was surprised by Kanan’s comments, but after years of wearing brightly colored armor she was used to the stares. Most of the time, she was able to ignore them, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being treated like a piece of meat.

Ezra, on the other hand, had clearly been focused elsewhere, because his lip curled and he snarled at the next being that walked by – a Rodian that, to Sabine’s eye, was more focused on his constantly buzzing comlink than anything she was wearing. In the end, she rolled her eyes but appreciated the gesture.

As they walked, Sabine noticed that the station was divided into sections. Large blast doors were spaced every couple hundred meters so if the station was breached each compartment could seal itself off – from both seawater and attack.

They passed under another reinforced bulkhead that housed sturdy blastdoors and another flashing sign – this one advertising for fake ship registrations and landing permits – when Chopper started beeping loudly and waving his appendages in the air.

“Great,” Zeb muttered. “What does that little bucket of bolts want now?”

Sabine agreed with the Lasat. The last thing they needed was added attention from the station’s clientele. Even now, beings were beginning to look in their direction. Some of them eyed the crew, while others watched Chopper with growing interest, probably figuring that a faulty droid was worth some decent credits even if they just sold it for parts.

Hera bent down and implored the droid to relax. “Chopper,” she hissed, “you need to keep it down. Whatever you want to tell me can wait until – wait, what!?”

Hera’s startled exclamation drew Kanan and Ezra’s attention, and the four of them quickly surrounded the rapidly conversing pair.

“What do you mean there’s a message in the lights? From who? What does it say?”

Chopper trilled again, his tone sliding up and down the scales as he tried to convey his message.

“It’s in binary? The flashing lights?”

The droid beeped affirmatively.

“What’s he saying?” Ezra cut in.

Hera glanced over. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Apparently, there’s a message in binary looped into the flashing lights of the signs we keep passing.”

“But what does it say?”

“That’s the confusing part,” Hera said, “all it says is keep walking.”

Zeb scratched his head, “Isn’t that what we’re looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Hera shrugged. “It’s not what I was expecting, but that doesn’t mean the message isn’t for us.”

“Well,” Ezra said as he stood up, “we’re headed in that direction anyway, so let’s go and see if there’s another message. Worst case we head to the Drunken Sea Monkey like we originally planned.”

Everyone agreed and with Chopper in the lead they headed off. Sabine followed a couple steps behind Ezra. She didn’t love the idea of following vague directions from a mysterious person through a strange undersea base, but she also didn’t see what choice they had. The Rebels needed these supplies and the Ghost was the only ship they could spare to track them down.

Another couple hundred meters down the corridor, Chopper chirped at another blinking advertisement.

“Take your next right,” Hera murmured, quietly communicating the droid’s beeps and whistles.

Sabine frowned, “but isn’t that away from the bar? Shouldn’t we follow the original instructions?”

Hera’s mouth compressed into a thin line, “we were told to head in the direction of the Drunken Sea Monkey, not to the bar itself. Maybe this is why.”

Zeb shook his head, “I don’t like it. First off, we don’t even know if these instructions are for us. We could be nosing our way into some place we don’t belong. Second, following these signs is – at best – a very loose interpretation of our original instructions. And third, our next right would lead us even farther away from the ship. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to be lugging –” he quickly lowered his voice in response to Hera’s glare, “weapons crates through this place for any longer than I have to.”

Kanan, who had been quiet for most of the discussion, finally spoke up, “I’m with Zeb. Unless we can confirm that these messages are intended specifically for us, we should continue with the original plan. We can always come back if need be.”

The rest of the crew nodded and even Hera looked convinced. Unfortunately, Chopper started whistling again.

“Chopper! Shut it!” Ezra exclaimed.

The droid didn’t stop but instead moved forward and bumped Hera’s leg insistently.

Hera knelt, “what is it Chop? You find something else?”

The droid whistled and chirped, and the longer their “conversation” went on, the larger the pit in Sabine’s stomach grew.

Finally, Hera stood up, “Chopper says that the message just changed. It’s now addressed to the green Twi’lek and the purple Lasat.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. “Well there’s no question who it’s addressed to now,” Kanan said. “The question is what we’re going to do about it.”

Ezra shook his head, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Sabine nodded, “I’m with Ezra. This whole mission stinks. I say we go to the bar, grab a few drinks so no one gets suspicious, then we head out. We can go on the next cargo run – it isn’t worth walking straight into a trap.”

“We don’t know it’s a trap,” Hera said. “And besides, wouldn’t you be overly cautious if you were sitting on a bunch of Clone War weaponry? I vote we check it out. These two,” she tilted her head toward Kanan and Ezra, “can be our early warning system. If they sense something’s amiss, we’re gone.”

Sabine saw the logic in Hera’s argument – the Rebellion was counting on those supplies – but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Sibensko made her skin crawl and whoever was watching them clearly had a vested interest in getting them to a specific destination. Maybe their informant was just being circumspect, but Sabine didn’t like it when mission parameters changed on the fly.

“Hera’s right,” Kanan said reluctantly. “We can’t afford to leave without checking this out, but at the same time, we can’t afford to be careless. Ezra, you and Sabine hang back. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything or anyone that seems out of place. Hera and I will stay up front with Chopper and lead the way.”

“And what about me?” Zeb growled.

“Do what you do best: look big and mean.”

Zeb’s answering grin was all teeth.

The crew set off again, loosely bunched together as they walked. As directed, they took the next right, slowing down and hugging the wall. While Sabine didn’t have the Force, she knew both Kanan and Ezra were on high alert, searching for any threats directed their way.

They continued walking, following directions hidden in a small placard and an overhead advertisement for holoball gambling. Soon, they found themselves in a part of the station most beings never visited. The mold on the walls was thick at the station’s seams and the musty, wet smell was nearly overpowering. Except for the picked-over husks of a few droids, the halls were empty. Finally, the mysterious instructions led them to an old, decrepit bank of turbolifts. Only the middle lift was lit up.

“Ummm…we’re getting in that?” Ezra frowned.

Sabine and Zeb both shook their heads. “I’m not sure that thing can support my weight,” Zeb said. “The repulsors are probably shot.”

Hera looked over at the two Jedi, “what about you guys? Feel anything?”

Ezra closed his eyes and Kanan stilled as they stretched out their senses. Even though she’d seen it numerous times, Sabine still thought it was a little spooky.

When Ezra opened his eyes, he glanced at Kanan, who gave him a subtle shake of his head. “Nothing,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean we didn’t miss something.”

Hera didn’t look happy, but nodded nonetheless. “I trust you both. The last message said we needed to go to level L8 and I don’t see any other options other than this lift. Let’s be careful, but we’re going to see what’s down there.”

The six of them reluctantly piled in, relieved that the lift only dipped slightly from the added weight – maybe the mechanics weren’t quite as dysfunctional as they looked. Hera punched in L8 and the lift whirred to life, descending deeper into the abyss. For a moment, everyone looked at each other, forced to pause and stare.

Ezra cracked a smile and stuck his tongue out at Sabine. The Mandalorian’s eyes rolled skyward under her helmet as she shook her head, not even attempting to keep the grin from her face.

Then the lift stopped and the moment was over. Her hand found her blaster and Ezra’s went to his lightsaber. Kanan slid forward, unconsciously shielding Hera, and Zeb shuffled anxiously, ready to draw his weapon as well. Everyone held their breath as the door rattled open.

There was a weighty silence when the door stopped moving, the air heavy with expectation. In front of them, Sabine saw only darkness as the small halo of light from the interior of the lift struggled to penetrate more than a few meters of the hazy gloom. A few emergency lights flickered wanly along the ceiling.

When the crew stepped out into the hallway itself, overhead lights snapped on with robotic efficiency. Sabine’s helmet quickly darkened against the glare but everyone else groaned. When their eyes had fully adjusted, Sabine was surprised to see that this part of the station appeared almost new. The walls were clean and the floor lacked the pervasive puddles and water spots present on the main levels. The air was mostly clear of the damp, moldy musk that came from being underwater. The only thing missing was life – there was no movement and no indication that anyone or anything even lived down here. As far as Sabine could tell, this level was deserted.

“Well,” Ezra finally said, “where to now?”

Hera shook her head, “I don’t know. The last message only said to go to level L8, not where to go when we got there.”

But just as Hera finished talking, a previously dormant placard flickered to life. This time, instead of binary, the words were in Basic, clearly legible for all to see.

It read: Proceed to storage hangar 53-A, your cargo awaits you there. Have payment ready for immediate transfer.

“We’ve come this far,” Zeb groaned. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Ezra sighed but started walking, “I still don’t like this.”

Hera moved to walk alongside Kanan, her lekku tense. After a few more twists and turns, they arrived outside a large door easily five meters wide and three meters tall. Stenciled across it in block letters was the designation 53-A.

Sabine looked around but saw nothing. “So…do we knock?”

“I sense life forms inside,” Kanan said. “At least a dozen.”

“A dozen!?” A panicked look crossed Hera’s face. “That can’t right! There shouldn’t be anyone here – my contact was supposed to lead us to a dead drop!”

“Ok, that’s it,” Ezra said, lightsaber already in hand. “We’re done. We’ve followed these mysterious messages all over this station to some abandoned corner that’s not even on a map and now you’re telling me we have a welcoming party? We’re getting out of here.”

The words had barely left Ezra’s lips when the large blastdoors shifted and opened with a near soundless purr. Ezra and Kanan drew their lightsabers instantly, fingers on the activation studs. Zeb had no such qualms – his bo-rifle crackled with energy in the stagnant air. Even Chopper extended his energy prod.

For a moment, no one moved. The hanger door remained open, the expansive interior a yawning maw, beckoning them in. 

Sabine glanced over at Hera.

The Twi’lek captain shook her head. “Any sign of trouble and we’re out of here.”

They stepped carefully through the doorway, Kanan and Ezra in the lead, scanning for the life forms they’d sensed earlier. As Sabine followed them inside, her immediate vision was swallowed up by a towering wall of boxes and crates stacked from the floor to the ceiling nearly twenty meters overhead. They blocked the group’s view and forced them along the hanger’s exterior.

As they explored, Sabine examined the crates. None of them were uniform; they featured various shapes, colors and materials, hodge-podged together like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit. They weren’t stacked in rows so much as set up in corridors, leading, if Sabine’s sense of direction was correct, to a central location. Most of them were unmarked or labeled in a language Sabine didn’t recognize, but she could distinguish the contents of a few: leftover droid parts, rebreathers, freeze-dried foodstuffs and other non-perishables. As they continued, Sabine noticed the tenor of their contents change – the boxes of dried Ronto meat were replaced by E-11 blaster rifles and blown glass cylinders from Naboo became crates of thermal detonators. If she didn’t miss her guess, the light blue crate they just passed held proton torpedoes and the oblong green tubes contained Tibanna Gas. It appeared the cache of Clone Wars weaponry hadn’t been a hoax, but the question remained – why had they been brought here?

That answer became clear as they rounded a final bend. 

The towering walls finally opened into a central processing area – a small enclosed building that sat at the nexus of the storage hangar, surrounded by dormant hoversleds and portable lifts that scaled the towering shelves. At the forefront stood a Falleen that Sabine had done her best to forget.

“Welcome Esasi Ordo!” Xishut exclaimed, his arms wide like a grand conductor, “Or should I say, Sabine Wren. I have missed you dearly. You and your band of rebels are remarkably hard to find.” He paused for a moment, clearly reveling in the moment. 

“While I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Bridger on Jakku, I believe this is the first opportunity I’ve had to meet the rest of your crew. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Xishut Krad. The Black Sun sends its regards.” This time his smile was all teeth.

“Common decency requires that I give you the opportunity to surrender peaceably, but I recognize the futility of that endeavor. And, after our last encounter, I’m not feeling particularly magnanimous. However, I will offer you the choice: leave Wren and Bridger and I’ll consider your debt paid.”

Ezra and Kanan’s lightsabers sprang to life.

“A pity,” Xishut drawled. “But not unexpected. Hopefully my employer isn’t concerned with the condition of your corpses. I’ll do my best to leave them somewhat recognizable.”

Sabine barely waited until her blasters had cleared their holsters before she pulled the triggers. Her first two shots sprayed wide but she had the satisfaction of watching Xishut dive behind one of the stagnate hoversleds askew next to the small structure. Unfortunately, the satisfaction was short lived.

Xishut was suddenly joined by dozens of men streaming out from the catwalks above and emerging from behind shipping crates. A pair of thugs even lugged an e-web blaster cannon onto the office’s low roof.

There was a moment – an instinctive pause during which everyone seemed to catch their breath – before a hail of blaster bolts descended upon them. Kanan and Ezra immediately moved to the front, their lightsabers incandescent blurs as they struggled to pick the truly deadly shots from the merely distracting. Hera, Sabine, Zeb and Chopper huddled together and began inching backwards, looking for an opportunity to regroup.

Hera’s precise fire managed to pick a Twi-lek off the catwalk above and Sabine saw one of her shots find the space between a Devaronian’s horns, but aside from those lucky shots, they were pinned down, unable to do more than desperately defend each other.

“Ezra!” Hera shouted above the din, “use the shipping containers!”

Thankfully Ezra intuitively understood Hera’s vague direction, because one moment he was deflecting blaster bolts, the next he’d ducked into Kanan’s shadow and was using the Force to pull shipping containers off the racks. The first two crashed to the ground with a thunderous bang, scattering the few mercenaries who’d broken from cover to come after them. These containers were followed by half a dozen of their neighbors, piling up in the center of the aisle the crew had been backing down. The rain of blaster bolts slowed as only the Black Sun who perched on the highest levels could even hazard a shot.

Everyone ran forward, sheltering against the cool metal and hiding from the snipers above. Ezra was panting heavily and shockingly pale. Moving the crates had taken a toll.

“We can’t stay here long,” Kanan said, eyes constantly prowling for potential threats. “If we wait for them to flank us, we’ll be pinned down. We need to retreat to our original entry point. If we can get through those blastdoors, Ezra and I can seal them in.”

Zeb gave a pointy grin, “As long as I get to bash some heads first!”

“I’m sure you’ll get plenty of that.” Hera said. “Sabine, I’m going to need you and Ezra to watch our flanks. Pick off what you can with your blasters while Ezra covers you. I don’t want any freelancing – there’s too many of them to keep an eye on. We stay together and we’ll get out of this alive. Everyone got it?”

They all answered affirmatively, but Sabine noticed the Twi’lek’s gaze linger on Ezra. The young Jedi was flagging, and the brief respite hadn’t done him much good. But there was no time to rest now, and the enemy wasn’t about to do them any favors.

They broke from the cover at a jog, Hera’s blaster flashing at a Nikto who’d just crested the blockade of crates. Sabine spied another, her blasters smoking the crate next to his head before a shot to the shoulder spun him around.

The enemy had used the momentary pause to do exactly what Kanan had suggested – flank the rebels. The cavernous hangar was alive with blaster fire coming from every direction as more agile mercenaries began to fire down from far above. Ezra’s lightsaber worked overtime, catching a bolt that had been ticketed for Sabine’s hip before pivoting and catching another that had been headed at her back.

Kanan had been able to help Ezra at the outset, but the farther they retreated from their crate barricade, the more they overlapped with the e-web’s field of fire. The elder Jedi’s lightsaber wove a deadly web, batting back the most dangerous bolts, his attention focused primarily on the mounted cannon.

Sabine fired faster and faster until she could feel her power packs begin to overheat. She’d managed to snipe a couple mercenaries who’d ventured too far from cover, but so far there’d been little sign of Xishut and even less of thinning their numbers. They’d managed to turn the corner and were now retreating down a parallel hall – out of the e-web’s sightlines for the moment. 

“Sabine, catch!” Hera stood over one of the crates they’d passed on the way in, seemingly unfazed as Kanan’s lightsaber danced behind her head. The Mandalorian only just managed to shove her blasters into their holsters before something hit her in the chest. She caught it reflexively. 

In her hands was an old, but very deadly, e-11 blaster rifle. Sturdy and utilitarian, e-11s were some of the most widely manufactured rifles in the galaxy. The weapon of choice for the Clone army and Imperial stormtroopers, the blaster’s fully automatic setting was known to fill a room with plasma in seconds. It was a reputation Sabine was looking to test firsthand.

Ducking under the cover of the two Jedi, Sabine and Hera began spraying the Black Sun with a deluge of blaster fire. Any mercenary venturing too far from cover was cut down as the Mandalorian and Twi’lek worked in tandem to cut a path down the corridor. Zeb added to the cacophony, temporarily stowing his bo rifle and wielding an e-11 in each meaty fist. Even Chopper had grabbed a weapon with one of his grasping claws and added to the chaos with a few ill-aimed shots of his own.

The crew was about to turn the final corner and bring the original blastdoor into sight when the facings of two storage containers tumbled down from a second story shelf.

“Find cover!” Kanan’s shout was the only warning the group had as Xishut’s trap sprung and two more e-web cannons thundered lethal plasma into the group. Sabine found herself tackled to the side as Ezra launched himself into her, a cannon’s fire stitching the floor where she’d been standing not seconds earlier. He wedged them both behind a large support under the overhang of the shelf. The cannons tore into the durasteel plating, shards of superheated metal scattering above their heads. When she peered over the container’s edge, Sabine could see Xishut glaring at her from behind the cannon’s controls.

“We need to get Chopper to those blastdoors,” Ezra shouted, panting against her neck. “If we wait much longer, we’ll be surrounded!”

“I’m open to suggestions!” Sabine said as she fired blindly over the edge of the container.

“Kanan!” Ezra signaled urgently to get the Jedi’s attention. 

Sabine saw that Kanan had Hera in a similar position across the corridor, but with the added variable of Chopper wedged at their feet. She scanned the area for Zeb and found the large Lasat crouched a couple crates behind the Twi’lek, hunched nearly double to cover his broad shoulders.

“Ezra!” Sabine shouted as the e-webs began firing again, “He can’t hear you!”

“I know,” Ezra groaned, “but I need Chopper.”

Before Sabine could ask why, the young Jedi thrust his lightsaber into the thick durasteel slab that separated one side of the shelving from the other. The metal glowed beneath the constant heat and gradually began to give way. Ezra grunted and tried to put more force behind his weapon, but all he succeeded in doing was hastening the descent of the molten rivulets that dripped off the blade.

“Ezra,” Sabine snapped, “I’d rather be shot by the Black Sun than buried under these containers. What are you doing!?”

Ezra paused to catch his breath, the combination of intense heat from the melting metal and exertion of the battle catching up to him. “I – need – Chopper,” he said between breaths. “I’m cutting a way through to the other side. We need Chopper to slice the blastdoors back open before we can leave.”

Sabine squinted at Ezra’s cuts. She could see the beginnings of an opening, but it was going to be a tight squeeze – even for Chopper. She shuffled her way to the edge to the crates, trying to figure out how to get Hera’s attention.

She hadn’t come up with anything coherent when she heard Zeb shout over the staccato bursts of the e-web cannons, “Behind!”

A few mercenaries had managed to find a way past the mountain of shipping containers the Jedi had dumped in their path, and now a particularly nasty looking Quarren and four humans were carefully advancing down the hallway Phoenix Squad had just navigated. They’d clearly been counting on the element of surprise, because Zeb’s blaster caught two of them before they could dive behind cover. The Lasat kept up a near constant stream of fire but the remaining trio now had a much better angle on Sabine and Ezra, which forced the Mandalorian to focus most of her attention in their direction. They were pinned down and unless Ezra had something truly ingenious planned, Sabine didn’t see a way they were getting out of this alive. 

“Hera!” Sabine nearly flinched into a blaster bolt when Ezra shouted over her shoulder. “I need everyone to get over here now!”

Wait? He needed what now?

Hera looked over, clearly confused. Sabine snapped two more shots off while Ezra motioned frantically.

Kanan caught the young Jedi’s eye and nodded. Then he leaned down and shouted something in the Twi’lek’s ear. Apparently satisfied that they’d gotten the message, Ezra scrambled back to finish cutting the opening. 

Sabine wondered if they really intended on making a dash for their hiding place when Kanan sprang into action. He suddenly slid out from behind cover, his lightsaber weaving a blue web as it picked off the incoming blaster fire. Hera was immediately at his back, her blasters joining Zeb’s as they kept the three late-arriving mercenaries under cover. Chopper hovered at their feet, trying to avoid tripping either of them.

The small group managed to make it halfway across the gap before Xishut ordered both e-webs to focus on the easier targets. Thankfully, Kanan seemed to be expecting this, because the moment he had the e-webs’ undivided attention, Chopper jetted across and wedged himself behind Sabine. He beeped urgently at the Mandalorian but she shooed him back toward Ezra.

Kanan, meanwhile, had gotten stuck. The increased fire from both e-webs limited his ability to maneuver and his full attention was now devoted to deflecting an increasing number of on-target shots. Hera fired desperately over his shoulder but the pair wasn’t moving fast enough. Soon Kanan wouldn’t be able to stop everything.

It was up to Sabine to make the most of Xishut’s inattention. She just needed to give Kanan a few seconds reprieve so the Jedi and Twi’lek could make it to cover.

Carefully, she laid the barrel of her e-11 along the top of the crate, using its stability as a guide. She could see about half the torso of the rightmost e-web gunner now that he’d turned the weapon toward Kanan. 

She took a deep breath, sighted the rifle and squeezed the trigger. Her shot flew true, striking the mercenary just below the shoulder. The impact spun him around and sent him flopping to the floor. The cannon immediately stopped firing, it’s barrel slumping toward the ground.

The small opening was all Kanan needed, and before Sabine could even fire another shot, Hera dove from behind Kanan and slammed into the Mandalorian. The pair tumbled roughly to the ground. Kanan abruptly appeared beside them, ducking under the lip of the crate as the air around them exploded with blasterfire. The second e-web had found a new gunner.

“I hope Ezra knows what he’s doing, because that trick isn’t going to work again!” He shouted.

“It’s ready!” Ezra grunted. He finished the final cut on the interior wall and carefully used the Force to push the metal plug through to the other side. “We need Chopper to get the door open. This is a short cut.”

Sabine eyed the opening skeptically. Ezra’s idea was solid but the hole was pretty small. She wasn’t sure the squat little droid was going to fit.

“Hera, see if you can get Chopper through. I’m going to help Kanan!” Ezra squeezed passed, leaving the Twi’lek crouched next to the astromech. 

“Sabine, I need you down here,” Hera shouted. The Mandalorian nodded and snapped off a couple shots before she ducked back down. Immediately, she saw the problem: Ezra had cut the opening wide enough but it was still too low for the droid to get through. She holstered her weapon and crouched next to Hera. Together, the two of them laid Chopper on his side and leaned his dome along the bottom edge of the hole. Then they began to push. With some help from his jets, the droid just scraped through. Chopper tootled indignantly.

“Oh relax,” Hera groaned. “The scratches will come out. I’m sure Ezra didn’t intentionally cut the opening that small. Now move, I’m coming through too.”

The Twi-lek carefully contorted her body, extending her legs first before gingerly twisting her torso through the opening, careful to keep her lekku from scraping against the sharp metal.

“Sabine, you’re next!” Ezra shouted over another burst from the e-webs as the bolts splattered crate in front of them.

“Bu-” Something about leaving him, even for a moment, seemed wrong.

“Go!” He shouted, “it’s the only option!”

Reluctantly, Sabine knelt next to the hole and squeezed halfway through. She was a bit broader than Hera, but thankfully her armor gave her some protection. She felt the edges scour the paint from her shoulder guards as she crawled the rest of the way.

“Ezra, come on!” Sabine called from the other side. “We need to keep moving.”

He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and peered through the small cutout. A look of sincere regret passed over his face. He shook his head. 

“We’re not coming. There’s no way Kanan or Zeb will fit and someone needs to draw the e-webs’ attention so you three can slice the door open.”

“What!?” Hera was suddenly pressed tight against Sabine’s shoulder. “Kanan! Get over here!”

The older Jedi tapped Zeb on the shoulder and the big Lasat nodded, gripping his second E-11 tightly. He squeezed off a couple more shots in the direction of the e-webs while Kanan knelt. 

“Hera, I…” He trailed off, struggling for words. Sabine felt herself go still as Hera’s nails dug into her shoulder. “Honey, I need you to be safe. We need both of you to be safe.” It wasn’t eloquent but it was concise, and Sabine saw its message echoed in Ezra’s eyes as well.

“Then meet us on the other side.” Sabine was surprised to find the words came from her. Hera hadn’t found her voice. “Just don’t make us come get you. It gets old after a while.”

It was a weak attempt at lightening the mood and everyone knew it, but the half smile Ezra gave her was enough to get her moving. She rocked back to find Hera still staring through to the other side.

“I love you.” Their captain’s voice was strong but Sabine could hear it teetering on the edge of desperation. 

“I know.” Kanan grinned like he’d said something particularly clever. Then the two Jedi pulled the metal cutout back into place and were gone.

Sabine stared silently at the gray metal, frustrated with herself. She wanted a do-over – a chance to say something more to Ezra. Shared jokes and loaded glances were a poor substitute for the actual words, and in that moment, her thoughts and feelings had finally coalesced into a conclusion. Had the circumstances been any different, she might’ve been scared but right now they gave her clarity – as if half her brain’s subconscious had finally been freed up to think about something else. She felt strangely light.

When Sabine did turned around, the blastdoor they’d entered through was in front of them.

“Chopper,” Hera began, “I need that door open. Cycle it once for Sabine and me and then be ready to close it again when the boys come running. Lock it tight once we’re all on the other side.”

The droid warbled a shaky affirmative and carefully stuck his dome out into the corridor. The two women held their breath. No shots came. It looked like Xishut was focused on the trio on the other side. Cautiously, the astromech peered out again before zipping across, his manipulator arm slamming into the port at the door’s base.

Sabine and Hera both waited with weapons drawn as Chopper worked, his dome swiveling back and forth. They could make out two or three mercenaries firing from behind the crates immediately below the rightmost e-web cannon. If Sabine was careful, maybe she could pick off one of them before they noticed her. It was a tough shot, but she’d do anything to help Ezra.

“Sabine,” she felt Hera’s hand on her forearm before she even realized her blaster was raised. “The worst thing we can do is draw their attention before Chopper has the blastdoor open. Right now we’re still trapped in here.”

“And they’re trapped over there!” Sabine growled. “If we wait much long-”

The rest of Sabine’s sentence was drowned out by a gigantic fireball that suddenly engulfed one of the e-webs and sent its partner pinwheeling into a metal strut. A staccato of smaller explosions followed as the blasters’ portable power supplies detonated. Most of the mercenaries were consumed in the blaze but Sabine thought she saw at least one dive to safety before another explosion, this one even larger than the last, obliterated what remained of the gun platform.

Before the fireball had even completely extinguished, Sabine was flying down the hall – Hera’s warnings lost in her mind’s jumble. She didn’t know how many mercenaries were still alive. She didn’t know what she would find when she rounded the corner. But she had to see.

She found herself leaping from the edge of a shattered crate to the carcass of a blown-out crash couch as she rounded the bend and skidded to a stop. Only Hera’s steadying hand kept her from toppling into the still flaming wreckage of one of the cannons.

Her eyes found them instantly as they stumbled to their feet. A little unsteady and slightly singed, but miraculously alive. Hera and Sabine met the trio halfway. 

The Mandalorian ripped off her helmet as her eyes roved over Ezra, cataloguing the new scratches and burns. The particularly nasty looking gash on his forearm was going to need some bacta gel when they returned to the ship. A rapidly purpling bruise was poking out from under his shoulder pad and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was favoring his right leg.

“I’m not sure whether to hug you or hit you,” Sabine said. “But I think both would hurt equally.”

Ezra’s grin turned into a laugh that was quickly truncated by a wince. His hand went immediately to his right side. Sabine mentally added the injury to her list.

“Here,” she compromised, “at least let me help you get back to the ship.” She moved alongside him and slipped her shoulder under his – some of her anxiety easing now that she could touch him. She saw Hera had her arm around Kanan’s waist and the pair of them were following Zeb toward the exit.

“So what caused that explosion?” Sabine asked after they’d taken a couple steps. “You practically took down the entire hangar.”

“Funny story, but remember that crate we were hiding behind? Well it just so happened to be filled with thermal detonators.” He pulled one off his belt and tossed it casually in the air. “A little Force-assisted toss and…” He mimed an explosion with his free hand, “no more Black Sun!”

“We were hiding behind a crate of explosives?! That could’ve gone off at any time!?”

Ezra managed to look a bit sheepish, “but they didn’t…?”

Sabine groaned. She was working her way toward a witty comeback when a large droplet of water landed on her forehead. She frowned and saw the rest of the crew glancing upward as well.

It was Zeb who found his voice first. “Umm, we might’ve done a bit more damage than we initially thought. Looks like the explosion cracked the seal on the hangar.”

“Which means what exactly?” Kanan groaned.

“It means,” the Lasat continued, “that hundreds of tons of water are pressing down on a ceiling that now has a crack in it – and that crack will soon become larger until it…” He mimed another big explosion.

“Then maybe we should hustle?” Hera said. “Chopper should have the door open by now.”

The five of them began shuffling more quickly toward the exit. Zeb led the way, followed by Kanan and Hera while Sabine and Ezra brought up the rear. It was slow going and the pair had to pause every now and then to maneuver around a particularly large piece of debris. Sabine could tell that Ezra was trying not to lean too heavily against her, but every time he even so much as jostled against her side she felt him tense. He clearly needed more medical attention than he let on.

Thankfully Hera had been right, Chopper had indeed managed to open the door. The little droid tootled happily when they came into view.

“Good to see you too, Chop,” Hera said tiredly and patted him gently on the dome as she and Kanan followed Zeb through the doorway.

Sabine and Ezra tried to keep a steady pace, but Ezra’s limp had become more pronounced. The two of them lagged behind the rest. 

“We’re almost there,” Sabine said quietly. “Not too much farther.”

Ezra managed a tight smile, “Thanks Sabine. I couldn’t do it without you.”

“I know,” she grinned, “but that’s why we have each other. Hera looks out for Kanan. I look after you.” The words were so natural that they didn’t even register until after they’d left her lips.

There was a pause, a silence that lasted a beat or two longer than normal.

Then, quietly, “You do?”

He sounded more than a bit unsure, tentative enough that Sabine wished they were facing each other as opposed to doing an awkward three-legged stumble. She needed to be able to look him in the eye – to show him that she wasn’t just saying it because they’d nearly died. In fact, she’d been looking out for him for a while now, to the point where it had become almost unconscious. A glance in his direction. A quick check to make sure he’d actually grabbed the mission supplies he needed and not just his lightsaber. Of course she always watched his back. They were better together. He should know that by now.

“Sabine Wren,” a wet sounding cough sputtered behind her.

Ezra was the first one to react, shoving his body in front of Sabine and igniting his lightsaber in a single motion. The unsteadiness from earlier was gone.

“I’m glad I can look into your eyes as you die.”

Over Ezra’s shoulder Sabine saw Xishut stagger to his feet. He’d managed to escape the blast atop the e-web platform – barely. The left side of his face was nearly gone, his previously pristine green skin sagged off in a ghoulish mask. His left arm hung limp, but his right held a familiar looking orb. A thermal detonator. His thumb slid forward, arming the device. He tossed it at their feet.

Sabine’s mind went suddenly blank and she watched in horror as the grenade rolled toward them. But just as quickly as it reached them, it was gone. Ezra used the Force to whisk it away into the upper shelves. His body pressed her to the ground as the explosion rang out and Sabine felt a wave of heat wash over them. For a moment, everyone was still and all she could hear was Ezra’s ragged breathing. Then he rolled off with a groan.

When Sabine picked her head up, she saw that most of the shelving was in flames, but its structure remained intact. A quick self-diagnostic found herself remarkably unscathed. She waved off Hera and Kanan, both of whom had taken cover just outside the blastdoor.

She glanced toward Xishut, but the Falleen had slumped to the floor. His eyes staring vacantly into nothingness. Dead. His last action, ultimately futile.

She looked over to find Ezra lying on his back staring intently at the flames. His armor was in tatters and what little was left looked like it had begun to melt into his clothes. 

She reached over and gently grasped his hand. His fingers curled around hers.

“C’mon Ezra, I’ll help you up. We’re going home.”

She helped him carefully to his feet, her shoulder sliding under his arm once again. 

“Sabine,” he rasped, “what do those cannister say?”

She looked over and found him studying a pallet of tall green cylinders at the edge of the flames. The metal was beginning to redden from the heat but Sabine could still make out the warning labels slapped across their front.

Tibanna Gas.

She barely had time to utter the words when she heard the first seal crack. A small pop followed another. Then another. The metal was expanding beyond the cannister’s abilities. They only had seconds until one of them exploded and set off a chain reaction.

Hera, Zeb and Kanan had seen the danger too, but they’d only managed a single step before the first cannister exploded. With a roar louder than the Ghost in a high speed burn, Sabine’s world became wreathed in flame. But before she had even begun to move, she was flying – soaring through blastdoor and past Kanan and Zeb until she impacted the far wall with a crunch. Her blasters went flying and a pauldron went skittering down the hall.

But Sabine was on her feet in an instant, sprinting back toward the young Jedi.

“Ezra, no!”

She heard Hera shouting too, saw Kanan and Zeb rush back toward the room. But before either of them reached the threshold, the blastdoors suddenly slammed shut.

The last thing she saw, the image burned on her retinas, was Ezra driven to his knees, hands stretched above him in a futile attempt to ward off the blast.

She slammed into the blastdoor, her hands tearing madly at its seal. 

“Chopper! Get the door open now!” Hera yelled.

The droid beeped urgently, his manipulator arm spinning wildly in the port. 

Nothing was happening.

“CHOPPER!” Sabine’s voice joined the Twi’lek’s as she pounded against the unforgiving durasteel.

The astromech squealed and chirped wildly, every port, every arm, dancing above its head. The lights on the door flashed once, cycling through whatever reset commands Chopper was giving it, before going dark. Whatever hope Sabine felt was rapidly fading away.

“Kanan!” Sabine exclaimed, “your lightsaber!”

The older Jedi nodded and ignited his blade. He was about to thrust it into the center of the door when Hera called, “Wait!”

Kanan froze.

“What are you doing?” Sabine yelled. “We need to get inside!”

“I know,” Hera snapped, “but Chopper says the door is sealed shut because there’s been a containment breach. The explosion must’ve shattered the ceiling. The entire hangar is full of water. That door isn’t designed to hold back this kind of pressure for long. If we crack it open now, we’ll probably drown and flood the entire station!”

The blastdoor creaked ominously, echoing Hera’s words.

Sabine felt the first inkling of despair seep into her thoughts. It couldn’t end like this. Not after everything they’d been through. Not when they were this close to…

“Can you feel him? In the Force?” It was a long shot, but Kanan didn’t question her. He closed his eyes and willed his body to be still.

The silence stretched and barely a breath passed between the crew. Only the dripping water around the edge of the blastdoor and the quite hum of Chopper’s servomotors disturbed the stillness.

Kanan blew out a long breath. The answer was written on his face before he even opened his mouth. 

“He’s gone.”

A choking sob escaped Sabine. It was a sound unlike any she’d ever made before. Half anger, half anguish. Loneliness given voice. She wanted to be embarrassed. She wanted to hide – to give in to the animal desire to retreat into herself, to curl up in a den far from the world. To close her eyes without knowing whether she would ever open them again. That was what Sabine wanted in that moment. No matter how tightly Hera held her. No matter what words Kanan said. They all washed over her in a haze of white noise.

She barely registered that they were moving again. The group huddled together, dirty, haggard and scarred. Down the empty hallways and up the turbolift. For once, they didn’t have to worry about blending in. Anyone that saw them gave a wide berth.

When she finally saw the Ghost, her heart stuttered again. Not an hour ago, she’d have thought the sight would have filled her with joy. It would have lifted her spirits, given her a reason to keep going. Now it was just an empty gray prison. Its walls filled with memories of pain and loss.

Sabine paused at the base of the ramp, one foot beginning its incline. She couldn’t do this. Not now. She motioned the rest of the crew ahead and slumped to the ground. She buried her head in her knees. She didn’t register their empty stares as they shuffled by.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but she was undisturbed for a long time.

Beep Boop.

Beep Boop.

Her head rose from her knees. What was that blasted alarm? Why wasn’t the docking attendant coming to take care of it?

Beep Boop.

Beep Boop.

Sabine groaned and got to her feet. She was going to find that noise and blast it until it stopped. It would feel good to destroy something. 

She began to shuffle around the bay, a blaster in each fist. She imagined she was quite a sight, with her burns and the ragged remains of her armor. She only managed a few steps before she had to stop, the room swaying around her. She probably should have eaten something or at least gotten some water when they’d gotten back to the ship. Too much more of this and she was going to collapse.

Beep Boop

Beep Boop

Son of a gundark. Sabine trudged in the direction of the sound, which, as luck would have it, was on the far side of the hangar. It took longer than it probably should have, but a few minutes later, she finally ducked around a large pallet of supplies.

Beep Boop.

The light above an old airlock was flashing yellow to red.

Beep Boo – BANG!

Sabine’s blaster cored the bulb and the annoying system behind it in one shot. Blessed silence finally descended on the hangar. She leaned against the pallet and closed her eyes, hoping the pounding in her head would subside for a moment before she began the trek back.

She’d just about resigned herself to moving again when she heard it – a slight tapping against the airlock door.

Tap tap tap.

She paused, figuring it was just her imagination.

Tap tap tap.

There it was again. It almost sounded like someone was knocking…but that was impossible, wasn’t it? No one would ever voluntarily go outside the station. Still, she approached the panel beside the door. Thankfully she hadn’t blasted this one. She scrolled through a diagnostic. Since this station had technically been designed for space, the hangar featured both inner and outer airlock doors – a natural redundancy for docking or boarding procedures. It appeared the outer airlock door had cycled recently. And if she was reading the diagnostic correctly, something or someone was trying to cycle the inner door as well.

Normally this would’ve been possible, but from what Sabine was reading, the interior compartment was full of water. The old seals must’ve sprung a leak or the pumping mechanisms failed and the computer was overriding the request as a failsafe.

Tap tap tap.

The noise came again and this time Sabine was convinced she wasn’t having an auditory hallucination. Even if there was a leak in the outer airlock, it wasn’t a full-blown rupture. She wagered that she could open the door and get it shut again without compromising the hangar. At least, that was her hope.

She typed a quick string of code into the system, her finger hovering over the confirmation command. When the tapping came again, she slammed her hand down.

The airlock door flew open with a torrential rush of water that nearly swept Sabine off her feet. She braced herself against the wall until she saw a dark form fly past and slam into the pallet. Whoever or whatever had been on the outside was now in the hangar. She hit another key and the door swung close, cutting the rush of water to a slow trickle. She turned to find a body curled against the side of the pallet. It wasn’t moving. 

Sabine stumbled over as fast as she could, feet sloshing through the expanding puddle, dodging the odd piece of seaweed and rock that had washed in as well. The form gave a long groan. It was still alive. Then the figure turned over and spit something from its mouth.

Sabine felt the air leave her lungs. It couldn’t be. Even half mangled she’d recognize that face anywhere.

Ezra.

She dropped to her knees with a strangled sob and pulled his head onto her lap. He turned and gagged, coughing up a sickening combination of seawater and phlegm. Sabine just held him, brushing his long sticky hair from his face. After a minute, the coughing subsided and Ezra collapsed back against her. He took a raspy breath.

“Hey Sabine. Funny meeting you here.”

“Ezra?” It came out as a question, as if saying the words too loudly could somehow make him disappear.

“That’s me…I think.” He tried for a crooked smile, but it looked more like a wince.

“You’re alive?”

“More or less.”

“But…how? Kanan said he couldn’t sense you anymore.”

“The explosion blew a massive hole in the roof of the hangar. All of the water came in and sucked me out. I was probably too far away by the time he tried to look.”

“But how did you survive?”

Ezra’s gaze became distant and he didn’t meet her eyes. “I honestly don’t know. The explosion spun me around so many times that I didn’t know up from down. I was disoriented, lost and on my last bit of air. I was beginning to see spots when this rebreather just floats past my face. So I grabbed it and shoved it in my mouth as fast as I could. I must’ve spent minutes just drifting and sucking in air. The water was so cloudy I couldn’t see anything. But once I had my breath back I swam around until I found the station and followed it until I got here. I honestly didn’t know this was our hangar. It was just the first door I found.”

“You found a rebreather!?” Sabine couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice.

Ezra shrugged and stuck out a hand. Sabine followed it to the small device he’d spit from his mouth. Sure enough, there was a rebreather.

“Do you think there was a crate of them somewhere in that hangar? Maybe they got caught in the explosion too?”

Ezra shook his head, “Could’ve been. Or maybe it was the Force. I’d like to think that it was.”

The pair was silent for a moment. The water she was sitting in suddenly felt very cold.

“You scared me.”

Ezra’s laugh was brittle. “Trust me, I was scared too.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Sabine exclaimed. “You scared me. I’m the one that can’t lose you. Not Hera. Not Kanan. Not Zeb. Me. So none of that hero Jedi nonsense you pulled back there.” She jabbed his chest with a finger, “if you go, then I go too. Ok? I can’t do this without you.”

She felt a hot tear escape even as she squeezed her eyes shut. He didn’t understand and she didn’t have any more words. She hated that she was losing it now, when not minutes ago she thought he was gone for good. It felt selfish, like she was acting for effect when in reality there was nothing she could do to prevent the outpouring of repressed, unresolved tension that came bubbling up. It was a hiccup, then a sob, then a laugh that left her empty.

When she finally quieted, she found Ezra gazing up at her. There was no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. A hand came up, his thumb wiping away some of her tears.

They looked at each other for a moment, her face in his hand. Then they were kissing. It was messy and unpracticed but it communicated everything that their words left unsaid. His lips were cold and chapped and the awkward angle left a crick in Sabine’s neck, but she wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

When they finally broke apart, panting for all the right reasons this time, the grin that split Sabine’s face ached and Ezra’s mirrored her own.

“We should probably head back to the Ghost,” she smiled. “Everyone will be really glad to see you.” 

“Do you think they’ll give me the same type of greeting?” His eyes danced.

Sabine made a show of looking him up and down, “Dressed like that? I doubt it.”

Ezra pretended to frown, “you didn’t seem to mind…”

“It was a lapse in judgment,” Sabine grunted and hauled herself to her feet. “Won’t happen again.”

She helped Ezra up, the two of them leaning against each other. She found herself not wanting to break apart.

“You sure? Because if all it takes is a near death experience to get a kiss from you, I’d have to consider going through it all again.”

Sabine glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Her arm slid around his waist and they started slowly shuffling back toward the Ghost.

“I mean, I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes…”

“Shut up, you idiot.”

“Why don’t you kiss me then.”

Sabine rolled her eyes but obliged, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a much more satisfying, albeit annoyingly traditional, kiss. If Ezra’s slightly dazed look were anything to go by, he certainly didn’t mind.

“Come on, we need to get you patched up,” she said, bringing the two of them into motion once again.

“You too,” Ezra mumbled tiredly. “You look worse than I do.”

“Ezra!” Sabine groaned, “you’re supposed to at least try to make a girl feel good.”

“Hey,” he exclaimed after a couple steps, suddenly perking up, “Does this mean I’ll finally get to see your tattoo?”

“Of course that’s where your mind went.” Sabine rolled her eyes and gently knocked her shoulder into his. The slight smirk on the young Jedi’s face warming away any momentary annoyance. It was good to see a bit of the old Ezra resurface. She pretended to ponder the question.

“We’ll see,” she shrugged, fighting her own grin. “Though I might need to see yours again first.”

Then they turned a corner and came in sight of the Ghost. Hera was at the foot of the ramp, clearly looking for her. When she saw the two of them, she gave a shout. Suddenly Kanan was running and Zeb came bounding down the ramp, Chopper tucked under his arm. Ezra and Sabine hadn’t covered half the distance before they were engulfed by the rest of the crew. Sabine pressed into Ezra’s chest as everyone piled around the pair.

She was home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I bet you didn’t expect to see this today! If you made it this far or are still with me from before, then thank you. I won’t bore you with a lengthy explanation, but everything I posted last time about having most of the chapter written and wanting to have it updated in two weeks was true. Unfortunately, life has a way of changing those plans and the past 6-9 months have been a huge personal struggle. Writing had to take a backseat, but this story never left my mind – always tickling my subconscious and begging for a conclusion. I’m grateful to say that I’ve gotten there. I do have a small epilogue planned and partially written. I’m going to make no promises on the timeframe (especially after last time), but it’s my intention that it’s up sooner rather than later.
> 
> A couple of you checked in with me over the months and know that I read each message and appreciated every word. I hope this chapter is, in part, a thank you for that kindness.
> 
> Regardless, I hope all of you readers are staying safe and healthy. Thanks for going on this journey with me.


	5. The Date

**The Date**

_2.1 years after Malachor_

Ezra didn’t know why it’d taken him this long to get clammy hands and a pit in his stomach that felt like it could swallow a sarlacc. He thought he’d done the hard part a month ago – he’d kissed the girl and she’d kissed him back. 

That was all there was to it, right? 

Ok maybe he wasn’t quite that naïve, and he did acknowledge that the week he spent in the med bay after their mission on Sibensko wasn’t exactly conducive to romance, but he figured the two of them were at least on the same page. Maybe Sabine didn’t want the girlfriend label? Maybe she wanted a little more space? Ezra didn’t know, but he figured they were at least “in a relationship” now. 

But Sabine still hadn’t said anything. 

In fact, he was concerned that things were going back to normal. 

True, they touched a bit more than they did before – she’d throw her feet into his lap when they were relaxing in the lounge and he’d slump against her shoulder whenever Zeb took too long to make his next move in dejarik – but they hadn’t even kissed again. 

One evening Ezra almost made the mortifying mistake of going to Kanan after hours of trying to wrap his mind around the situation, but thankfully Hera had caught him skulking outside their door and pried the worries from him. After much hair pulling and more wild gesticulations, the Twi’lek laughed and suggested that maybe Sabine was waiting for him to actually ask her out – not just assume. 

It had sounded like a great idea in the moment, but now that Ezra was actually doing it, he wasn’t so sure. In fact, the two of them had just been running errands for Hera and nothing remotely romantic had happened at all!

So while the young Jedi was currently following his aforementioned love interest, his mind was racing through a thousand-and-one possible scenarios – all of which ended with him asking Sabine out. But whenever he opened his mouth to interrupt her, his tongue got thick, his voice disappeared, and he felt like he had a lump in his throat larger than a meiloorun fruit.

Unknowingly, Sabine wasn’t making it any easier. Completely engrossed in whatever she was describing, she didn’t notice Ezra’s indecision. When she reached her room, she palmed the door open and walked inside without a backward glance. Under normal circumstances, Ezra probably would have followed her without a second thought, but today he hesitated on the threshold, wiping his sweaty hands surreptitiously against his pants. It was now or never. If he didn’t say something, he might spontaneously combust. He leaned against the doorframe and tried to look casual. 

He could do this.

* * *

Hera had gotten a hint of what Ezra was doing when he and Sabine walked through the _Ghost’s_ lounge. Sabine was talking animatedly. Ezra was nodding along while making the appropriate “hmms” and “uh huhs” but his mind was clearly elsewhere. Normally Hera would’ve shrugged and chalked it up to typical teenage disinterest, but Ezra was never one to take Sabine’s undivided attention for granted.

After they’d passed, the Twi’lek meandered in the same direction, remaining just within earshot. She kept waiting for Sabine to scold Ezra for his lack of attentiveness, but the girl was clearly on a roll – hands moving, excitement building as she explained her newest idea for an explosive art project. And since she was walking ahead of her younger companion, she missed that he wasn’t fully focused on the conversation. Which was why when they reached her quarters, she simply continued inside.

Instead of following her, Ezra paused. After a moment’s consideration, he leaned against Sabine’s doorway – hanging half in, half out of the room. 

Hera muffled an incredulous laugh as Ezra slowly shifting from leaning against the door to reclining against it. In his mind’s eye, he probably imagined himself looking particularly suave, but instead he just looked like a two-bit gambler trying to get lucky.

Hera didn’t have much difficulty predicting the perplexed look that crossed the Mandalorian’s face. 

* * *

“Ezra…” Sabine frowned, eyeing her friend carefully. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Ezra did his best to look confused. He shuffled a bit against the doorframe. Its edge was really digging into his back. “What do you mean? I’m just…listening to you.”

_Great move, Bridger. Way to not sound like an idiot._

“Uh huh. Sure you are,” Sabine snorted. “Because that looks really uncomfortable.”

“This? No!” Ezra shook his head. “I’m good. Really comfortable right now.”

“Ok,” Sabine shrugged, clearly unconvinced. “But make up your mind. In or out. Because whatever that is,” she waved a hand at his increasingly awkward slouch, “it’s blocking the door.”

“Right. Sorry,” Ezra said, thankful for the excuse to finally stand upright. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath just as the Mandalorian turned away. “Sabine I…I was wondering…” He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. His earlier conviction leaving him in an instant. If Sabine had wanted to be together, she would have said something. This was a mistake. He didn’t doubt that she’d meant what she’d said on Sibensko, but it’d all been heat of the moment – even the kiss.

“Never mind,” he finished lamely, suddenly wishing he could disappear from the room. “It’s not important.”

But Sabine didn’t let him off that easily. She crossed her arms and glared. “It clearly is or you wouldn’t be stumbling around like a frightened puffer pig in my doorway. C’mon Ezra, spit it out.”

_Fine. He could do this. For Sabine._

Ezra gathered himself and tried again. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?”

_Wow. That wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be._

“Go out with you?” Sabine asked. “Ezra, we were just out getting supplies. Why would we need to go out again?”

Ezra froze. _Did she seriously not get what he was asking? Or was she trying to politely hint that she wasn’t interested?_

“No,” Ezra shook his head, “not errands for Hera. Just the two of us. Going out. Together.”

Sabine feigned confusion while the younger man floundered, completely missing the playfulness in her eyes. “We were just together for the last two hours,” she said slowly. “Did you forget? Is your head alright? Do I need to ask Chopper to give you a medi-scan?”

Ezra groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. _Why weren’t things ever easy with Sabine? _When he’d taken a deep breath and finally looked down, Sabine was smiling wickedly.

“Pick me up at 17:00.”

Ezra’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Wait…seriously?”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “After all we’ve been through you really thought I’d say no? Of course it’s a yes! I’ve been waiting for you to make a move all month! Now shoo,” she said, gently shoving him from her room. “I have to clean up a bit. I’m still sweaty from all of the together-time we had earlier.”

“Yeah…Yeah of course,” Ezra nodded, slowly retreating until his back found the bulkhead wall and Sabine shut the door with a grin. Only when it whispered closed did Ezra allow himself to slide to the floor where he stayed with a dazed look on his face. Somehow, in all his mental rehearsals, he’d never really gotten past the moment she said yes.

He leaned against the cool metal, reveling in the unbridled happiness that warmed every inch of him. But after a moment of wondrous peace his brain kicked in. Suddenly he had a lot to do. He needed clothes, credits…and some finishing touches to his plan! He took a quick whiff of his shirt. And a shower was definitely the first order of business.

Then he glanced at his chronometer. _Kriff! _Sabine hadn’t given him much time! Ezra shot to his feet, neatly sidestepping Hera as he turned the corner and rushed down the hall. For once, he couldn’t get to the ‘fresher fast enough.

* * *

Later that evening, Hera curled herself into the far corner of the lounge with a datapad under the auspice of reviewing the _Ghost’s_ cargo manifest. She’d only gotten through a couple of items when Ezra walked in, running a hand through his freshly showered hair in a futile effort to tame the long fringe. The Twi’lek had to give him credit: he’d actually managed to find a clean shirt and scrub most of the grease stains from his trusty vest. He really looked quite handsome.

“I can get you one of Kanan’s hair bands if you want,” Hera offered, a slight smile on her face.

“No…no, I’m good,” Ezra said, giving up on his hair and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and kept glancing in the direction of Sabine’s room.

"Relax Ezra,” Hera smiled, “it’s going to be fine. Asking was the hardest part. Just enjoy the evening. I know Sabine is going to love it.”

“You think?” He gave a weak smile, “because I’ve spent the last two hours waiting for her to come to her senses and realize she’s made a huge mistake.”

Hera chuckled, “I think she’d tell you the only mistake she made was waiting as long as she did.”

“I hope so…” he trailed off as Sabine made her presence known.

Hera watched as his eyes lit up. The Mandalorian had forgone her traditional armor in favor of something more casual: a dark pair of pants that subtly accentuated her long legs and a modest white shirt covered by a very chic leather jacket. In true Sabine-fashion, she’d embellished the garment with a bit of paint and two patches: a Mandalorian crest along the right arm and a Loth-wolf on the left. She’d kept her hair simple, but the bright primary orange with purple fringe stood in stark relief to the dark-and-light ensemble. Needless to say, Ezra was smitten.

“You clean up pretty nice, Bridger.” She said, his obvious approval giving her enough confidence to add a bit of a strut to her walk. “But I hope that wherever we’re going doesn’t have a ‘No Blasters’ policy.” She opened her jacket just enough for Ezra to glimpse a weapon peaking out from an underarm holster.

A small chuckle was all it took to put Ezra at ease. He shook his head, “Just try to be a bit more subtle than you usually are.”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed.

“C’mon Sabine…fancy armor, orange and purple hair…lots of explosives.” The younger boy grinned, “You can’t tell me you try to fly under the radar.”

The older teen had the audacity to feign a disaffected sniff, “Well I don’t know what sort of manners they taught you on Lothal, but in most _civilized _places, it’s considered rude to insult your date.”

Nonetheless, she looped an arm through his, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and tugged him in the direction of the landing ramp. Hera watched them go, already chatting animatedly. Sabine’s hand dipped from the crook of Ezra’s arm and the Twi’lek had no doubt their hands would soon be intertwined.

Once quiet had returned, she turned her eyes back toward her datapad. She really did have to review the cargo manifest and it was clear that neither Sabine nor Ezra was going to be any help tonight. She’d only managed to get through two items before Kanan walked into the room.

“Was that Ezra and…Sabine?”

Hera nodded, “You sound surprised.”

“They’re together?”

The Twi’lek shrugged, “they’re giving it a try. But I don’t think they’ll have any trouble making it last. Took them long enough anyway.”

Kanan rubbed his jaw. “I guess I still think of him as that stubborn little street rat we picked up on Lothal – wildly naïve with an attitude to match. I think he spent more time picking on Chopper and Zeb than anything else. Not to mention mooning terribly over Sabine…” he trailed off. “So nothing’s changed then?”

Hera laughed. “A few things have, love. Or at least Sabine seems to think so. But to us,” she paused, a bit wistful, “he’ll still be that kid.”

She turned back to her datapad only to stop again when Kanan sat himself down and propped his feet up on the dejarik table.

Her lekku twitched and she fixed Kanan with a scowl, “you’re not waiting up for them.”

“Sure I am,” Kanan protested. “The kid knows nothing about dating! He’s going to want to go too fast. I need to set some ground rules.”

“I’m going to do you a favor and never tell either of them you said that.” Hera rolled her eyes, “Now c’mon, let them be. Sabine doesn’t need you to defend her honor and Ezra would be mortified if you tried to give him anything approaching The Talk.”

“But – ” Hera cut off Kanan’s protestations with a glare of her own.

“Let the kids be, love. Besides,” she pulled him to his feet, “I think don’t think Ezra needs your help. Did you ever stop and ask why he requested we dock on Hosnian Prime?”

Kanan scratched his head. “Now that you mention it, I was a bit confused. Ezra’s always struck me as a fresh air and wide open spaces kind of guy.”

Hera chuckled. “Remember that fancy painting Ezra found in the Duke’s manor the last time we were here?”

Kanan nodded.

“Apparently he convinced Chopper to upload a few select rumors of its existence onto the ‘Net. Suddenly, art enthusiasts from across the galaxy were calling for its display. The Duke and Duchess were forced to _donate_ the entire collection to a local museum.”

“How kind of them,” Kanan muttered, a grin growing on his face. “And that’s where he’s taking Sabine tonight?”

"Among other places,” Hera smiled mysteriously and hooked her arm through his.

“Now, if Sabine’s not in her bunk, that means we have that side of the ship all to ourselves for the next couple of hours. Think you can manage to forget about Ezra for the evening?”

“Perhaps, but a little convincing wouldn’t hurt either,” he teased, laughing as Hera swatted his arm.

They could let the kids be kids…at least for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that...is that. A little different perspective but hopefully a fun ending. Thanks for sticking with me, even with the lengthy delay in the middle. Hope you all are staying safe and healthy - keep your heads up, we'll get through this together!
> 
> Please drop a review if you feel so inclined!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


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